


The Dark Grail

by Lesmisgirl



Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Mystery, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 59,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7614829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesmisgirl/pseuds/Lesmisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rebecca and Yoine want to save their daughter from a fate worse than death. Their daughter wants adventure, romance, and a life like she's never known. Von Krolock wants the beautiful girl with the stars in her eyes. Each of them takes measures to seek what they truly desire. Set before, during, and after the musical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Augen Der Nacht

"You brought our daughter to that place?"

Rebecca Chagal threw a bulb of garlic at her husband. Fortunately, he ducked in time to miss it and Sarah watched as it flew over his head and shattered into cloves on the floor. Mama was always throwing things at Papa, it seemed, and he never was all that upset about it. Sarah did not know why Mama was so angry in the first place: the castle had been so wonderful. Was she upset she had not gone with them?

"Now, my flower-"

"Don't!" Rebecca yelped, tossing her arms in the air and trotting off to the kitchen. Yoine followed and so did Sarah, wondering what the whole fuss was about. In her arms she clutched the little bear the tall man had given her. It was so soft, Sarah had never felt anything so soft before.

Yoine called, "It was perfectly safe, my flower! I promise! Do you think I'd bring our Sarah into danger-"

"What is that?" Rebecca looked at Sarah's new toy. In a moment the bear was snatched from her grasp and before Sarah even realized it there were tears in her eyes. What was so wrong? What had been the problem? Why had they taken her bear? The bear had done nothing wrong. Sarah's hated when mama and papa fought and they fought all the time. "Do not cry!" She pointed to Sarah before tossing the bear onto a shelf too high for Sarah to reach.

"I thought he'd be more agreeable if the child was there-"

"-you used our daughter as a _bartering chip-"_

"-he was, mind you, he'll forgive the debt just as long as we-"

"-this is low, even for you, Yoine. She's just a girl! Barely six years-"

"-provide him with simple things. That's all, my flower." Yoine breathed deep breaths. "That's all."

Rebecca smacked his head again then stepped back at stared at him coldly. Sarah did not like to see mama so cold, but it seemed that's all she was of late. Cold. It had not been cold at the castle, Sarah realized. There had been a fire, a big one, and The Count had let her sit by it while papa and he talked. The Count had been so nice to her the whole time, so she could not understand why mama was so cross. Sarah knew many people were scared of The Count, but there was nothing to be afraid of at all. Perhaps he was a bit strange looking, but he had been nice. He was very tall. Maybe they were frightened of how tall he was.

Sarah wanted her bear back. She saw the soft thing sitting on the high shelf and wanted it back. Never had she had a bear so fine.

"You are an idiot, Yoine Chagal. What if he develops..." Mama's eyes travels to her daughter and away again. She spoke in that low voice parents used when they didn't want you to listen. Sarah always listened. "...develops an interest in her."

"She's but a child, my flower," Her papa laughed easily. "They don't take children."

"I'm talking about when she's older, Yoine!" Rebecca bellowed so loudly that the whole tavern was staring. "They can wait! Waiting ten years, twenty years, a hundred years is nothing to them!"

"You're being paranoid, my flower-"

"Gah!" Rebecca tossed up her arms and walked far away from her husband and daughter. Tears had been coming down Sarah's face for quite some time, but it seemed neither her mother nor her father cared much. Unable to speak for her crying, Sarah pointed at the bear and her father gave it back to her with an absentminded sigh. Knowing her parents were upset, Sarah elected to go up to bed on her own. Sarah had become very good at going to bed on her own.

Out from the tavern she went, sneaking up the stairs and hiding the bear from sight. Mama might try to take it again and Sarah would hate that so much. When she made it to her bedroom, Sarah shut the door and locked it, tossing her bear to her bed and changing into her pajamas. She looked out her window. No one was out on a night like this. The snow was especially bad, though the snow was always bad, and it made her cold just to look at it.

Sarah thought, for a moment, if she looked really hard she might be able to see the castle. The castle would be a magical place to live, Sarah decided, as she stared into the clouds of snow. At the castle, they would give her toys and smile at her and call her a little princess. That's what The Count had called her: a little princess. If she lived in the castle, would she become a princess? Sarah moved to her mirror, pretending her nightdress was a beautiful white ball gown. She twirled and twirled until she was so dizzy she fell to the floor.

The people at the castle had been a bit odd. They were so pale and their eyes were hard and strangely colored. Sarah thought she wouldn't mind it though if she got to be a princess. If she went to the castle, she'd be a princess and everyone would love and admire her.

There was a knock at the door: "Sarah?"

Mama, Sarah breathed, her eyes darting to the bear on her bed. Snatching it into her arms, Sarah tossed it beneath the bed and out of sight.

"Yes, Mama?" Sarah opened the door to find her mama looking just as flustered. More strange was the garland of garlic across her arms and the silver cross stuck in her fist. Their family did not even pray to crosses. "Mama?"

But Rebecca stormed in without explanation, hanging the garland over Sarah's door and placing the cross on the window sill. Sarah watched wide eyed and the whole thing filled her with horror though she did not even understand why. Why would mama do this? What had upset her so? There was always garlic in the tavern and mama said it was to keep everyone from becoming ill. Was Sarah becoming ill? She didn't feel sick at all. Suddenly her mama grabbed her by the shoulders, leaning and staring her in the eye.

"You take none of this down: you understand?"

Sarah nodded, tears swelling in her eyes that her mama ignored.

Rebecca continued, "You let no one into this room besides me and papa, understand?" Another nod. "Where is the bear, Sarah?"

She said nothing, her eyes wide in terror. Not the bear. Mama was going to take the bear away.

"I know you like it, Sarah," Rebecca's voice was softer now. "But you can't keep it, I'm sorry. The man who gave it to you is bad."

Bad? No, no mama was wrong. Mama had not met him. The man who gave the bear was so nice, mama just needed to meet him. Mama just needed to... Tears poured out of Sarah's eyes and her mother relented. A deep disdain for herself grew in Rebecca Chagal's chest. She had not meant to upset her daughter, yet it seemed all she did was upset her. Sarah did not know. Sarah was young and Rebecca did not want her to know. She did not want her daughter filled with fear like all other in the town were. Not Sarah. Not her sweet, little Sarah.

_No doubt those monster saw how sweet she was too,_ whispered that panicked voice in her head. _Remember what Alana told you. You cannot be too careful with Sarah._

"We'll buy you a new bear tomorrow, baby." Rebecca stroked her daughter's auburn hair. "I promise you, we will. I just need to know where you put the other one."

Sarah did not speak, but her eyes darted to her small bed. Rebecca turned, seeing the dark fur of the little thing and grabbing it from under the bed. It was truly a lovely toy: an expensive toy. Rebecca and Yoine would not be able to afford such a thing for their daughter. _It's no matter, she cannot keep it. She cannot._

"Thank you, Sarah," her mother spoke softly. "I'll take good care of it, hmm? And tomorrow you'll get a brand new one."

Sarah's nodded and whimpered again. Rebecca told the girl goodnight and left her alone in the bedroom. She knew she heard crying as she left but could not afford to be weak. The words that had haunted her for days rung in her mind. 'He wants a new...mate,' Alana had giggled drunkenly at the bar a few days ago. 'That's what one of the others told me.' Alana Van Welter kept the company of one of the creatures from the castle. One of many women to do so, she was treated equal parts as a pariah and a god in the village. They were never invited to social events, but always there when you wanted news of the castle.

'Should we tell all our young women to hide?' Rebecca had mused as she cleaned off one of the tables. Yoine had been across the tavern, drinking and cleaning nothing in his usual way.

Alana laughed, 'Oh, they'll wait for whomever they desire. The Count wants a new Countess, he will not take this lightly.'

'Can he not just pick from the brood he already has?' A brood that included some of Rebecca's friends. Friends she had not seen since they went to the castle.

'He wants something new, no doubt,' Alana hiccupped. 'Wouldn't you?'

'Couldn't say,' Rebecca responded with a sly look to her husband. 'Whom does he desire, our Count?'

Alana shrugged, 'Silvio does not know. Or at least he won't tell me.' She was filled with giggles again. 'You've a little girl, don't you Rebecca? Maybe it's her!'

'If your dear Silvio loves you so much, why does he not make you like him, hmm?' Rebecca had swatted. She looked at the cuts on the young girl's arms. The bite was poisonous, either infecting or killing, but these human lovers had found a way around it. They could feed their vampires if a cut was placed. Disgusting, the whole matter, but they did it nonetheless.

'You've had enough,' Rebecca took the drink from the young woman. 'No more talk of the castle.'

In the present, Rebecca looked down at the animal in her hands. She was being paranoid, just as Yoine had said. It was a bear, not a promise of anything. But why give her a gift at all? The Count was not one for sentimentality. He was not one to give something without expecting anything in return. Yoine had said he'd promised nothing besides goods to the Count. 'Did you really think I'd barter our daughter away, my flower?' Her husband had pleaded. 'Nothing was promised. Nothing at all! Sarah is safe!'

But this bear. This present. This could not be good.

Giving one more glance to the animal, Rebecca stuffed it in the bin and left it behind.

_That's a tad rude,_ thought The Count, who'd been watching all the while. Watching without being seen, as he usually did, and moving in the shadows without being heard. Rebecca Chagal left the kitchen with a huff, but Von Krolock picked the small animal from the bin and dusted the bit of paper that had stuck to it. It had been his son's, this toy, and Herbert had kept it for sentimental reasons all these years. It had been his idea to give it to the girl. There had been nothing meant by it. Not really. She had been sweet and terrified. They never had children come to the castle. A welcome change was this little girl with starry eyes.

This family was not very kind to this little girl, he had gathered. Krolock had observed her before with the innkeeper and his wife and saw her often ignored and left to herself. Why bother having a child if you do not care for it? He had thought as he watched her eat meals on her own. Krolock took the animal in hand and found the girl's room upstairs. A pungent odor caught his nose: garlic. An entire garland of it guarded the doorway. In the window was a cross and he stepped back in revulsion. So it seemed the mother had taken all precaution against him.

Little Sarah lay on her bed and he heard muffled cries coming from her. It shattered him a bit to hear it, her small face turned away from him. Yes, they were cruel to her here. He would never be so cruel to her. He had not meant anything by the present before, but now things felt quite different. He could take Sarah from this fate. He could take her from these ignorant parents and melancholy lifestyle. Not as a child, of course. Children of his kind were even more melancholy and depressed. He could wait, he was certain, and take her away when she was older.

'Am I getting a little sister?' Herbert had teased when Chagal and his daughter left the castle. Krolock had not spoken, and his son took that as an admission of vulgarity. 'Oh, a new mother?'

'Do shut up,' Krolock had hissed, shutting the door with one last look at the little girl.

He did not know what all he felt. Pity: that was one of the emotions. Empathy. He too had been ignored as a child. He too was often left alone. Protectiveness: that one was the strangest. Krolock wanted to step forward and touch the girl's hair but knew such a thing would be ill-advised. Krolock reached around and set the bear back in her arms. In her half dreaming, Sarah clutched it to her and shut her eyes tightly. A new warmth spread over him at the picture.

Krolock left, leaving whatever feeling had sprung in him in that room in the tenant house.

"Hide the bear better this time, Sarah," he whispered before he left. She had not heard him, he was certain, but a part of him hoped she had.

Want: that was the other feeling. Not a lustful want or a greedy want but the want a child has for a bear. The want of something soft and precious and utterly his.

Rebecca Chagal sat in the tavern, watching as her husband drank and laughed and ignored all that was happening. Sarah Chagal laid in her bed and dreamed of ball gowns and castles. Count Von Krolock stalked back to his home, wondering why such a child had caught his interest.

No one slept well that night.


	2. The Red Blanket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years have passed and Sarah finds herself meeting with Count Von Krolock again

Three years had passed and Sarah was nine and a quarter years old and very proud of that quarter. It meant she was one quarter older than Elijah Stowenn and she loved being one quarter older than Eliah Stowenn. He called her a baby and made fun of her braids and she absolutely hated him for it. When he found out she still slept with a stuffed bear, he laughed at her and called her names until Mariah Reeds punched him in the nose. Maria Reeds was Sarah's greatest friend.

It had been Maria that told her about the vampires. Sarah had not known what a vampire was, but Maria's father was very studied in them. He had books and books about them. Sarah had tried to read one once but found them very boring so Maria and her father explained it all to her. They were vampires, those people in the castle. They were immortal creatures that fed upon blood to live. They could kill, but did not always, and had guarded their village for centuries. They were not evil, their vampires, but not something to be trifled with either.

Sarah understood now why her mama had been so cross. Many people, Maria's father had explained, were scared of the vampires. Count Von Krolock and his brood were more civilized than most, but they were still fierce hunters. Mama had thought that Papa and Sarah had upset them with their visit but they had not. _The Count likes me,_ Sarah had told Maria in confidence. She told Maria about the bear and the next day Elijah Stowenn had known about it. _I only told Kaitlin,_ Maria had explained. _Kaitlin told Elijah._

Sarah had been very mad about it until Maria punched Elijah in the face. Only a true friend would do such a thing.

Things had not changed much for Sarah in the three and quarter years since she visited the castle. Nothing was at all peculiar or even remotely strange. She kept no secrets from her parents, save for her biggest secret of all. The bear was tucked away in her drawer every morning and laid in Sarah's bed with her when she went to sleep. Eventually, Mama had relented in her protective measure and the garlic garland went away. The cross was hung above the window though, but it was out of the way and Sarah forgot about it. She had not seen The Count since that day when she was six.

Until after school one day when Sarah was nine and a quarter, she and her friends decided to play hide and seek. It was snowy and cold, but it was always snowy and cold, so they saw no harm in it. Sarah was determined to win. Sarah never won at races or wrestling, but she was certain she could be a good hider. No one would find her and she would win. She would win and she'd watch Elijah's stupid face fall as she did. Elijah always teased her relentlessly. He'd call her a baby or whiny and then laugh while she cried. Sarah would not cry today. Sarah would win.

The best spot was hers as she found a thicket of trees to tuck inside. From the distance, she heard Kaitlin announce her search and Sarah did her best not to giggle. _They won't find me,_ Sarah thought proudly. _I am the greatest hider of them all._ Maria was caught first, then Elijah, and then some of the other boys. No one found Sarah. For what felt like ages they searched, but no one could find Sarah. Her hiding spot had been the best. She had won.

It had grown colder. The snow was coming down harder. Some place far away her friends were calling her name but Sarah couldn't see them anymore. The snow was coming down too fast, too suddenly. Sarah's mama had always told her to be inside when the snow was coming down this fast. Perhaps winning did not matter so much anymore. A fear crept over her as the snow began to suddenly downpour. This was not good. Sarah should not be outside in such weather. Such weather was very dangerous.

"Wait!" Sarah yelled, coming out from the trees. Winning didn't matter. Beating Elijah Stowenn did not matter. This was not good. No, this was very bad.

"Sarah!" They called from far away. The snow was pouring in dark white sheets. How suddenly the snow could pour. "Sarah!'

"Wait! Wait!" Sarah trekked through the piling snow. Her nose was so cold: why didn't she have a scarf? Why had it grown so cold? There was nothing she could see. "I'm here! Please! Someone! I can't see!" Sarah felt like crying but her eyes seemed to be frozen. She felt like screaming, but when she opened her mouth all that came into it was snow. "Help! Help!"

Stuck. She was stuck. The wind was too strong and Sarah's legs were too weak. The snow was too thick and Sarah's eyes were not good enough to see through it. She tripped and fell flat faced into the icy drift. _I can't get up,_ Sarah realized with panic. _I can't move. I'm going to die. I'm going to die._

What a silly way to die.

She was dead. Sarah was certain she had died for now she was flying. Her mama had told her that when you die, you're lifted from the ground and fly with the angels into the heavens. An angel was holding her now, for someone was holding her and the someone was flying. The angel was whispering things to her, but Sarah could not hear them. For being dead, she still felt rather cold. But she supposed corpses were cold. Yes, she was dead. Of that she was certain.

It was certain that she looked dead. Yoine Chagal nearly died himself when he saw the vampire standing there with his daughter in his arms. _Rebecca was right,_ he realized as an ice pick was driven into his heart. Sarah lay across The Count's arms cold and lifeless, her pale skin turned blue and the tips of her hair frozen. _She is dead. My Sarah is dead._ Yoine stumbled through, not caring that everyone in the tavern had started to stare and not caring that he knocked over several women in his pursuit. Not his Sarah. Not his beautiful Sarah.

"Keep better watch of your daughter, Chagal." The Count spoke in a tone icier than the storm outside. Chagal reached his arms to hold his child and for the strangest moment it seemed The Count was not going to give her up. The moment Chagal thought it, the frozen girl was passed into his arms and his previous thought felt ridiculous. "I found her alone and freezing. Close to death."

"Thank you, your Excellency," Chagal bowed earnestly. Alive. His Sarah was alive. She was blue and she was cold, but breaths came out of her purple lips. "Thank you. Thank you. My daughter-"

"Be careful with her." Count Von Krolock spat the words acidicly, taking too much care to speak every letter of every work. There was a fire in his eyes that looked set to burn the whole tavern down. "It would be shameful if something should happen to her."

With no further explanation of that, The Count turned and disappeared into the blizzard like some sort of great bird. When Chagal turned, he saw the eyes of every patron upon him. No doubt this was the first time many of them had seen The Count, let alone heard him speak. It was like the sighting of some mythic creature, a vision of a god, and they all stood in wonder at it. Yet he saw the deepest question ringing in all of their eyes: why bring back Sarah? Why save the girl? Those foolish enough to let themselves out in a blizzard were usually never seen again. The Count personally saw to Sarah's return. This was dangerous indeed. _Rebecca was right. Rebecca was right._

"Stop your staring!" Chagal bellowed. "Get me hot water and blankets!" No one moved. "Now!"

Another rare sighting: Chagal full of anger. It was usually his wife who did the yelling and the giving of orders. Never did he do such a thing. _My Sarah,_ Chagal thought as he laid her in front of the fire. He peeled off her soaked hat and gloves and the coat that was turning to ice. A woman whose face he paid no attention to brought him hot water and towels while a man handed a blanket. A little boy came and dropped his scarf for her.

"Wake up, my child," Chagal breathed as he set her feet in the hot water. Rebecca must've been alerted of the news for she burst through the crowd screaming and sobbing in her usual way. "What has he done to her? My Sarah! My child!"

"He's has done nothing to her, you lunatic woman!" Chagal hissed. Though he did not assuage his own doubts until he gazed at his daughter's neck and saw it clear of any puncture wounds. "She was caught in the storm and he brought her back!"

Rebecca breathed, _"Brought her back?"_ She half swallowed, _"Brought her back, Yoine-"_

"I know," Chagal hissed as he took hot water in his hands and pressed some to Sarah's temples. Her eyes fluttered a moment and he felt his entire chest collapse in relaxation. "Run her a bath, Rebecca."

"Yoine!"

He hissed, "Get a _maid_ to run her a bath! She's an icicle!" As he said it, his daughter's starry eyes opened and stared widely at the ceiling. A noise of pure relief burst through his lips in seeing her. Slowly, she sat up and one of the women set the blanket over her shoulders. Perplexed, his daughter looked around her surroundings and then to her father. The mother had gone to fetch a maid.

Sarah spoke, "P-papa?"

"Hush, Sarah, you're home now." He said as the people around were watching intently. This was a scandal. Well, not a scandal, but it was sure to fuel gossip. Yoine Chagal's daughter carried in by a vampire. That was extremely brazen of him to do such a thing. He never did that sort of thing. Which had to mean…which had to mean he was _watching_ Sarah. He was… Damn it. Damn it. Rebecca had been right. Or Alana had been right.

Alana. Chagal had not seen the woman in at least two years. It was said she lived in the castle now, but Chagal was not sure. Sarah was gazing at him intently, she whole body quaking as he covered her in the blanket. Why Sarah? Why her? She was pretty. Perhaps she would be beautiful later. Did those creatures know these sort of things?

Did Sarah encourage him? Rebecca said the boys at school were always being teased by Sarah. She was nine, this was insane. There was no way a child could be teasing such a creature. Sarah hardly spoke to anyone, save the Reeds girl. The Reeds girl and her bizarre father. No, no it wasn't possible that Sarah-

"What happened, Papa?" Sarah asked as she shivered. Chagal looked to the faces of those around. Mostly concerned look, pitiful eyes, but there were face too many questioning brows. Far too many low whispers. "P-papa? I-I don't remember. I was playing. I was playing and then I got stuck and I…" Sarah blubbered and tears formed in her eyes.

Chagal breathed, "It's all right, precious. It's all right."

"I'm so sorry, papa," Sarah said through shivering tears. "We were playing in the woods. I know we're not supposed to, but we were p-playing hide and s-seek and I wanted to w-win so I hid in the woods and they d-didn't find me and it started to s-snow and I couldn't see-" The tears were desperate now, choking her words and filling her throat. Anyone who'd had the looks of judgement had melted at her little display. For certain Sarah had done nothing wrong. Sarah could do nothing wrong, it was that monster. The Count was the thing that was wrong, not Sarah.

Her father held her, "There now, Sarah. You'll make yourself sick. It's all right. You're home now.'

"I don't remember how I got home," Sarah whimpered. "Did my friends find me? I remember I was flying."

Damn, damn, they were all staring again. Chagal heard his wife's feet stamping loudly on the stairs, followed by one of the maids.

He cleared his throat, "It doesn't matter, precious. And your bath is ready, so let's get you upstairs, hmm?" So Sarah was passed off to her mother and taken up the stairs. The tavern guests had ceased their obvious leering and tried now to pretend that they were talking about other things. He knew what they were talking about. Chagal felt a dark cloud settle over him as certain eyes flittered at him and then away again. He stormed to the bar, pretending he had things to do.

Emilian Kamir spoke, "He's a big bloke, isn't he, that Count? Hardly thought he'd fit through the door frame."

"I'd give the girl's school master a piece of my mind," his far too young wife, Constance, spoke. "Allowing the children out to play on a day like today. It's a blessing no worse happened to her."

"No worse than what?" Chagal spat the girl's eye widened. Emilian looked upset and perhaps Chagal had been a bit coarse. "You're right. Could've been worse. I'm happy Sarah is… God, I thought she was-"

"I know," Constance said with a kind smile. No one else brought up the occurrence to Chagal and the night went on as thought nothing peculiar happened. It was not so for Sarah. She was rushed upstairs and into the tub like she was ill or in very big trouble. She felt absolutely awful for having played in the snow, she really did, but she didn't know why everyone was so incredibly upset with her. Before she was allowed in the water, her Mama made her turn and put out her arm as though checking her for bug sores. Did they think she had bug sores?

Sarah stammered, "W-what's wrong, Mama?" Into the bath tub she was put without an answer to her question.

"You did not see any marks upon her, did you?" Mama asked Samantha sharply.

"No, madame," Samantha, the maid, responded sharply. "She is a child. My father says that they do not-"

"I care not what your father says," Mama hissed. "The Count has had a…"

The Count, Sarah's ears perked up. Was that who had saved her? It made sense, she supposed. The flying and the angel but… Why would he help her? It was very nice that he had helped her, but Sarah could find no reason for it. He had saved me. Mama was wrong, he is nice. He is nice to have saved me. She thought of the bear she kept tucked in her wardrobe. Sarah always thought Papa had given it back to her but now she wondered…

"…fixation on her," Mama whispered the words again in that way adults do. "At least I suspect one. Yoine thinks I'm insane but it all started with this bear…"

"The one in the wardrobe?"

Sarah's very heart caught in her throat. No. No. Mama could not know about the bear. Mama would be so cross and she'd take away Mr. Bear. Sarah had another bear, a blonde one that she kept upon her bed. Perhaps Mama would think Samantha mistaken and not go searching. But no, Mama knew, for Mama always knew. Her eyes flitted to Sarah and then to her bedroom door and she stormed off inside of it. No. No. No. Samantha looked to Sarah guiltily before leaving her alone in the bathtub.

Rebecca swept back inside, holding the black bear in front of her wide eyed daughter. This was far worse than Rebecca had imagined, far worse. It had been far worse when Yoine said that that _thing_ had carried her daughter in. And now this. This bear. This stupid fucking little toy. And Sarah was looking at her wide eyed and fearful and no doubt confused. No doubt the little thing had absolutely no idea what was going on or what she had done…

"Sarah, I said we must be rid of this!" Rebecca barked to the young girl.

Sarah stuttered, "I know! I know! I thought Papa had given it back to me-"

"Why hide it?"

"He said to!" Sarah pleaded with tears lining her eyes. "Papa told me to hide it. When he brought it back, he told me to hide it."

Rebecca could hardly breathe. In her _room._ That creature had been in Sarah's bedroom. Was he often in Sarah's bedroom? A child, she was but a child! Rebecca looked at this little thing in the bathtub and thought naught how she could be alluring to such a beast. Had he hurt her? Touched her? The thought sent her absolutely fuming.

Sarah breathed, "It was Papa, wasn't It, Mama? Wasn't it?"

"Of course," Rebecca said easily. "But Sarah…" No, no she could not ask her child such a thing. Not when she was so frightened. Asking her would only frighten more. She had to. "Sarah, has anyone been in your room? Anyone that is not me or Papa or one of the maids?"

"M-maria," Sarah stammered as though she just confessed a great sin. "Are you asking about the Count? Do you think he's been in my room?"

"Of course not, sweetheart," Rebecca responded softly as her hand fiddled with the bear. A rather well loved bear, it seemed. It was not as fine as it had been the last time she'd seen it. Its fur was still soft, but warn, and its little paws frayed from holding. Perhaps there was no harm in the toy. Maybe it had all been coincidence. Maybe the bear was a kindness and the rescue was a kindness… _there are no such things as coincidence._ Her mother had always told her that. The words Alana had spoken were ringing in her mind. Alana had been gone for two years now. Sarah could not keep the bear.

Rebecca continued, "But the bear has to go, Sarah."

"No!" Sarah stood up, stark naked, from the bath tub. "No, Mama, please!"

"He is not good, Sarah. I can't have you keeping this gift from him!"

"But Mama!" Sarah stepped out of the tub, sliding on her robe hastily. Her voice squeaked like she was being sentenced to death. "Please, no! He's my bear! He's my friend! I love him!"

"For goodness sake, Sarah, it's a toy!" Her mother bellowed in an unkind voice. She watched as her daughter's eyes grew in fear and sadness and Rebecca felt another peculiar stab to her chest. No, no she could not relent. This was for Sarah's sake and safety. They could not have a cursed toy inside of their home. Especially not now.

Rebecca tore at the seam of an arm and watched as Sarah lost all love for her mother.

"And it's broken, see?"

"You broke it!" Sarah half-yelled and half-sobbed. "You killed him!"

"Go to your room!" Her mother instructed. "Do not leave and do not let anyone in! I need to speak with your father."

"Why did you kill him?" Sarah whimpered but her mother ignored her again. The girl was sent off to her room and slammed the door behind her.

**OOO**

"You gave her mother's red blanket?" Herbert said in his usually unusually high pitched tone. It grated upon Von Krolock's ears especially terrible tonight. It was nearly morning and he was tired and certainly did not need his son yelling at him. "You truly have gone mad."

"It's a blanket, Herbert, do calm down." Von Krolock sighed as he laid his head against the back of his chair. His head was absolutely pounding. He was hungry, no doubt, he hadn't made much effort to feed of late and the stores he'd made of blood were running low. Besides, it was nearing the time for the ball and he did not particularly feel like hosting a ball or finding humans for it-

Herbert huffed, "Does she...does she look like mother? The girl?"

"What?" Von Krolock said groggily. "No. Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Well, I wouldn't know!" His son muttered defensively. "I never actually got to meet the woman, did I?"

Von Krolock shot a warning look to his son who immediately was quiet. Herbert looked like Isabela if anyone did. He had her hair and her structure and the same gait in his steps. She died soon after laboring with him and that was the first time things turned sour. Von Krolock had never loved Isabela, but she had been his wife. She had been a constant companion since their courtship two years prior. When she died, he was left with a son he was ill equipped to handle and a court that was crumbling under economic strain. He'd made a bargain to regain his power and found his words horrifically twisted. Regained power he did, but in return he lost his humanity.

"Sorry," Herbert mumbled, taking a seat on his gilded chair. He was still such a child sometimes for someone so very old. When Von Krolock was cursed, his son instantly wanted to become the same. It took years of convincing, but eventually his father relented. It would be good, he supposed, to have at least one constant companion. Even if Herbert was infuriating, he was at the very least constant.

"They're cruel to her," Von Krolock spoke eventually. Never one for sharing any bit of his inner thoughts, he could feel Herbert's dumbfounded gaze without having to look.

Herbert pressed, "You pity her? You aren't one for pity."

Von Krolock didn't respond, a usual thing, and his son scoffed and adjusted himself in his chair. He watched at his son's brain turned, trying desperately to work something out or come up with a reason. There was no reason. There was absolutely no reason this child had obsessed him. Not obsessed him but... No, no it was an obsession. Not a vulgar or immoral one, but an obsession nonetheless. Sarah was his. Watching her live and grow gave him such peculiar comfort he did not understand. And she didn't even know. Sarah didn't even know.

Part of his would prefer there being a reason for it. He'd like to think there was some great prophecy or pre-aligned stars that drew him to her but he knew there were not. He could not understand this. He could not understand why she gave him solace and clarity and why he despised her parents for not seeing this star child they possessed. He wanted her. She could come here, perhaps, and live with them. Stay a human and become like them if she wished... It was a ridiculous fantasy. An absolutely stupid thought. It crossed his mind often regardless.

"Well, if you want her to join our menagerie, I wouldn't waste too much time thinking about it."

Von Krolock moved to speak but Herbert beat him to it.

"I know she's a child, I'm not saying now. But I waited for my dear Edmure and he decided he'd rather be married than with me." Herbert clicked his tongue dismissively. "Now he has a terrible wife and a horrendously annoying little girl."

Again, Von Krolock did not speak and let his son blather on about his forgotten lover or whatever he was upset about. His mind went back to Sarah and earlier in the day. Earlier when he's taken her from the snow and she was an inch from death. The horrified looks upon everyone's faces when he'd carried her in. It had been stupid, prideful, and Sarah took the fall for it. That's why he'd given her the blanket. A sort of apology. He'd mucked up everything in his selfish display of power.

After she'd gone to sleep, he came back to her room and rested the blanket upon her. She'd pulled it into her small grasp and rested it against her face.

"Please," she had spoken softly and he worried she had seen him. "Please, God, send me an angel. Send me a friend or an angel because Mama took mine away." Sarah blubbered her prayer as she nuzzled against the blanket. It seemed then she realized its unfamiliar fabric. Sitting up, he watched as she laid out the red and crimson cloth and saw as her starry eyes grew wide at the sight of it. A smile growing on her lips, Sarah stroked it lovingly, turning it over and playing with the fringed edges.

Her eyes darted to the window and she leapt up suddenly. Sarah wrapped herself in the red cloth, engulfing her little self in the blanket, and went to the glass. Her fingers touched the cold pane leaving a clear mark as her eyes flitted along the street. _She's looking for me,_ he thought with the most peculiar little smile. Seeing he was not there, Sarah frowned slightly and climbed back into her bed.

"I will hide this one better," she spoke to the dark and empty room.

Count Von Krolock left, a feeling he could not name filling up his chest.


	3. Appetite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been a bad author and updating this on ff but not here. So be prepared for a barrage of chapters as I transfer my work from there to here. Thanks for reading!

It had been three years since the night Sarah Chagal had been brought to safety by Count Von Krolock. This particular night found Edmure Reeds alone and unable to sleep. Usually when he was alone and unable to sleep he'd end up doing a very unwise thing and it seemed he'd done it again tonight. It was especially bad when Veronica was gone and Veronica was gone so often. Even Maria wasn't home this evening, nor was their son, Claudius. Absolutely alone was Edmure, and all he could think about was one thing. Well, two things, he supposed.

"You called?" Purred the familiar voice as cold arms wrapped around his waist. Edmure had not seen Herbert in ages. He despised himself for rekindling what had once been between them, but he could hardly live in the facade he had created either. Besides, now there was Claudius; finally, an heir. That's all he needed, really. That's all his father had wanted. Veronica was very dear, but Edmure could never feel the way about her she felt about him. Of that he was very certain. For twelve whole years he had lived in this façade of a life. Not a life he despised, but not one he was particularly happy in either. Herbert made him happy. So right after Claudius's birth two years past, Edmure called for Herbert again.

Edmure had been surprised Herbert had been so receptive to the idea of it. Edmure was much older than they had been when it started. Though, he supposed, Herbert was still much older himself. Despite it, Edmure could not help but feel an old man compared to his partner. Though if his age now bothered Herbert, the vampire had said nothing about it. Which was good, for Edmure so delighted in being with him again.

It was a secret, this tryst, and a very well kept one. The slits Edmure made in his skin were small and unnoticeable and he found ways to make them heal quickly. Veronica would be so upset if she knew, and he didn't want to upset her. He couldn't upset the children either. Maria was so smart and so wonderful: he loved her and Claudius like he'd never loved anything before. He could not hurt them. Everything would be ruined should Edmure's secret get out.

"I need to talk with you," Edmure said as he turned around. Herbert was standing far too near to him and he suddenly forgot what exactly he'd been planning to ask.

Herbert pouted, "That's rather boring. I thought you'd called me for something a little more…fun."

"I'm sorry, but it can't wait," Edmure said fervently. "I have a question. About your father."

"About my father?" Herbert made a noise of disgust then turned and sauntered off to the bed. He laid out upon it, looking far too seductive and making Edmure forget why he was talking again. "What about my father?"

"Do you know a Sarah Chagal?"

Herbert raised his brow quizzically. "That's not a question about my father, Edmure."

"So say it's several questions." Edmure teased easily, moving to sit upon his bed. The vampire stared at him with squinted eyes and did not move from his lounged position. "Do you know her?"

"Of her," Herbert responded astutely. "What is the fascination with that little thing?"

"She's Maria's friend," Edmure explained. It seemed Herbert was getting bored with him. When Herbert got in a mood, he'd often leave before they even touched each other. Edmure hoped he wasn't upset. "Sarah told Maria that your father leaves presents for her. Is that true? And for what reason?"

Herbert groaned half-heartedly, "He can be a ridiculously sentimental man." It must've shown upon his face that Edmure had no idea what Herbert meant by that claim. He clicked his tongue, crawling a bit towards him. "There's nothing immoral in it, if that's what you're worried about. He just...I don't know, feels some sort of kinship with the little thing. I don't understand it at all and he hardly speaks to me about it." His arms snaked around him, "He hardly speaks to me about anything."

"I just worry for her," Edmure continued, desperate for someone to talk to. His qualms were not ones he could discuss with Veronica and especially not with Maria. It seemed Herbert was not a good option either, his mouth now placing kisses on Edmure's neck and certainly not listening to a word. "Sarah is like…like another daughter to me. Her father is drunk all the time and the mother ignores her."

Herbert breathed, "Well, maybe father will stop being so brooding and give the little girl an immortal kiss and be done with it. They'd certainly both be much happier for it."

"Is that what he wants to do?" Edmure asked as his heart caught in his chest. He should not be so horrified by the notion. In fact, the notion had come into his own mind many times yet Herbert had never made him any offers of immortality. Yet Sarah… Sarah was just a child. She was so sweet and good, precocious and cunning. He'd heard the rumors (everyone had) that Count Von Krolock was requiring a new Countess but he could not believe that a child would…

Edmure's mind instantly left behind any thought of Sarah and Herbert's fingers moved down his thighs. His long fingers trailed back up Edmure's body, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt. Edmure found his mind erasing of the other things he needed to tell Herbert when his lips started kissing very softly on his neck once again.

"I haven't the faintest what father wants to do, nor do I entirely care." Herbert peeled the shirt from Edmure's skin. "Now, I don't think you called me here to talk about my father, did you?" Edmure shook his head no. "Good."

Herbert kissed him again and they did not speak for the remainder of the night.

**OOO**

Sarah was sent to live with an aunt she hadn't met it a place she hadn't been for the first month of the summer. The Aunt was Aunt Violet and the place was Constanta, a wealthy Romanian city by the sea shore. Sarah had not known that last factoid, a woman at the tavern named Natalia had told her all about it. Natalia insisted Sarah would have the most wonderful time and see the beautiful city and go to ballets and operas and all sorts of things that sounded wonderfully magical.

The reality was less so. Sarah's Aunt Violet lived in a rather large house near the shore with no children and four large dogs. Sarah had never much been a fan of dogs, so the hounds took a bit of getting used to. Besides the five of them, the big house was empty and strangely cold for being so near to the sand. A widow was she, and a wealthy one at that, so she made a point to take Sarah in for the month to help her with her "transition into womanhood." Whatever that meant.

Sarah's parents had been more than eager to get rid of her, though Sarah was not entirely sure why. Nothing strange had happened since that night of the winter storm. Well, nothing strange that Sarah had told her parents about. Like before, protective measures were strong in the weeks following the episode. It seemed everything Sarah had was covered in garlic and her room lingered with the smell for months. She wouldn't tell her parents, but the garlic did not even work. For once in a while, Sarah would get little trinkets from her angel.

Of course she knew he was not an angel. Sarah knew what he really was, she was not daft, yet thinking of him as an angel made it easier to think about him. He was the angel she had prayed for: Sarah knew it. It was not very frequently her angel left her a present, but in the loose floorboard where she kept the blanket there would sometimes be left a gift. Primroses, on occasion, would be there waiting for her. Little figurines of animals or people would sometimes be found amidst the red folds of her blanket. There was even once a beautiful hair comb that she never had occasion to wear but no less admired. It felt very nice to be admired.

She told no one of this but Maria, for Maria found it fascinating and not scary as Sarah found it fascinating and not scary. They were just presents. They were just kindness. And it was so wonderfully fun to have a secret.

During the first day of her stay at Constanta, Sarah wondered if her angel worried for her. She'd thought about leaving a note to explain where she'd gone but knew she'd get in terrible trouble if such a note were found. Would her angel know where she was? Not that it mattered, really. She just…

She didn't know why she worried.

**OOO**

Elisabeth was still lying across the bed when Von Krolock rose for the night. His sleep had been satisfying if short and he felt a small bit better than he had the night before. There had been unrest among his brood, an unrest easily set right, yet it still riled him to know it had happened at all. The ball was nearing and they all would feel better after feeding. Supplies were running low and their reputation in the village was already on a thin line. A thin line he'd created with his own selfishness

If not for Elisabeth, Von Krolock would've spent the night doing nothing but turning over in his own mind. Elisabeth was very good for distractions and other comforts: she gave them freely without requiring anything in return. Many of the other women had not the same mentality as she. Elisabeth's profession from her human life made her less affected by things like love. Von Krolock was rather certain he had forgotten how to love and many of the other woman required it if they were to share his bed. He could simply not give them the thing they required.

"You're awake quite early, master," Elisabeth noted in a voice full of sleep.

"There's much to attend to," he responded. Not a lie, for there truly was. The accounts needed to be settled and he needed to check that all the tenants had given rent. A rather dull part of immortality was the tedium of such things. However, he'd quite literally sold his soul to keep this castle and village alive so he would not allow it to falter. For over four hundred years he had not allowed this castle to falter despite any kind of upsets. There had always been upsets.

Politics were not exceptionally fun, but something necessary for the castle's survival. Not every member of his court was useless: many of them had served in courts and politics in life and were rather helpful assets. The issues arose in the ones he did create: the extras, the others. The creatures who'd lie about in the castle and bemoan their horrifically boring states. Those were the problematic ones.

The castle's relationship with the villagers was a very carefully balanced one, and boredom would upset the balance. They must walk the line between fear and respect else face repercussions. Von Krolock was not so vain as to think himself untouchable. He had seen his creatures perish before and knew he was just as susceptible.

There were unspoken rules between the villagers and the vampires. A sort of "you don't harm us, we don't harm you" mentality. As much as he could, Von Krolock discouraged feeding upon the villagers. If one gave blood willingly or was stupid enough to stumble upon a vampire's path, then the rule was bended. Killing or creating mindlessly was strictly forbidden. To keep the peace of this, there were always humans brought to the ball every year. Humans no one would especially miss upon whom the brood would feed. Otherwise stores of blood were kept or the creatures could find means to feed on their own. As long as they kept away from unwilling villagers, Von Krolock cared not how they fed themselves.

The villagers kept the secret of their ruler's true nature, paid their rents, and did not come snooping. As long as they kept to their own, they were given protection and a house to live in. The village very rarely received new faces: many of the same families of his childhood still occupied the place. Chagals had run the tenant house for nearly a hundred years.

Sarah. He need not be thinking about a child. She was gone for the month, regardless, which was certainly good. He'd grown... He'd grown too reckless. Idiotic.

"Paperwork. Exciting." Elisabeth sat up from the bed and stretched her long arms. Her hair was red and fell over her shoulders like a waterfall of flames. She slipped from the bed, picking up her shift and covering her bare body with it.

"You're welcome to stay if you're tired," he said absentmindedly as he dressed himself.

Elisabeth sighed, "I'm all right. I'm hungrier than anything so I suppose I'll take a trip." She touched his shoulder softly. "Good night then, your Excellency. Have fun with your papers." The woman hesitated. "And don't forget to feed yourself, Emilian. You look positively emaciated."

**OOO**

Nothing.

Of course there was nothing. Rebecca felt like a madwoman to have thought anything differently. There was nothing at all bizarre left behind in Sarah's room. No other toys or items that were not things given to her by family or friends. Of course there wasn't: Sarah was a good girl. Even when things had been suspicious, Sarah was still a good girl. Whatever fixation the Count had had upon her had obviously been blown out of proportion in Rebecca's mind. It was just that...the thought of Sarah becoming one of those things was far too much to bear. Too many of Rebecca's friends had met the fate.

Rebecca knew how charming those creatures could be, but she knew how inhuman they could be as well. Sarah need not be around such creatures. Sarah need not be a part of such evil. Sarah was all Rebecca had.

Rebecca and Yoine had always wanted a large family, but Sarah's birth had been too complicated to dream of having another. Sarah was all that they had and Rebecca would be damned if they lost her. Sarah would find a good husband and take over the tenant house and carry on as their family had for a century. Nothing could happen to their Sarah.

Feeling foolish for going through her daughter's things, Rebecca retired back to the tavern. Well, retired was not the best word, for it was crowded and busy as it always was and full of people demanding drinks and attention. Drunken blathering the most of it, but one particular conversation caught her ear.

"...I get to the castle and the bastard's not even there!" Prattled a man with a face red from drink. "Some ginger girl tells me he's gone out. I'm gonna be late on my rent and the bastard'll kill me for it all because he's decided to go holiday!"

Rebecca froze. You are being ridiculous, she scolded herself in a voice that sounded very much like her husband's. Surely the Count had gone absolutely anywhere that was not Constanta. He certainly did not even know Sarah was gone at all. Yes, Rebecca was most certainly paranoid. She should stop her eavesdropping and get back to work.

"What would a vampire go on holiday for?" Teased the woman who was practically on the man's lap.

"Hell if I know!" The man belched. "All I know is he's gone and when he gets back I'll be dead for my tardiness."

"To your death, then," teased the blonde girl while raising her glass.

The man laughed, "To my death!"

**OOO**

Constanta was very boring, Sarah had decided. Aunt Violet, it seemed, was not just a tired old lady, but a mean old dictator who decided Sarah needed to learn to be "a lady". Which meant Sarah had to wear a corset all day, which was an absolutely ridiculous ordeal because Sarah had no reason to wear corsets at all. It wasn't as though she were attending balls or going to be a princess. Though she would quite like to be a princess.

Maria had told her that once a year there was a ball at the castle. Sarah would like to go to that ball, but Maria said it was only for the people that lived in the castle. Sarah thought it a rather silly ball if no one was invited. She'd like to be invited. Would she have to wear a corset if she went? Aunt Violet said that all ladies wore corsets to every type of function, so Sarah imagined she'd have to wear one to the ball. Maybe she didn't want to go to the ball if she wouldn't be able to breathe the whole time.

Her days were filled with chores and mindless memorization. Yes, Sarah was a student and a servant all wrapped up in a nice little bow for her aunt's amusement. The routine of it all was monotonous and horrendously boring and Sarah could not wait to go home again. Part of her felt strangely homesick, but she was not sure what she was homesick for. Not her actual home, that was certain, though she missed certain aspects of it. She supposed she missed school too, for at least she got to see Maria every day at school. She missed not wearing a corset most of all.

Yet Sarah found her freedom at night. At night, Sarah could do as she pleased and her aunt was none the wiser. Aunt Violet and four dogs would fall asleep very early and all four of them snored so loudly that they never heard Sarah leave. Leave she would and walk out onto the sandy shores. It was much cooler at night so she'd wrap herself in her red blanket and step onto their private square of sand. Sarah was not scared of being on the shore alone. Even if she was, this little bit of it was there's and no one was meant to come out upon it. It had been scarier the first time, but Sarah had been in Constanta a fortnight and was not scared anymore: she was brave.

At night, she'd go out and let her toes touch in the water and she'd dream of going far, far away. Where though, she was never quite so sure.

The wind was cold so she'd tucked herself into her blanket. The air felt thicker, though she didn't quite no why. Thicker in a good way though: that tingling you get of anticipation. A feeling that comes spontaneously and seizes you whole. Sarah had always liked that feeling. She'd get it sometimes out of absolutely nowhere. Usually when she was all alone and especially at night. That feeling that something very magical was near. She was never sure just what, though.

She sang a song to herself because she liked the way it echoed on the waves. She wasn't sure of all the words, but it was one of the sad ballads she'd heard people sing in the tavern. It was about a woman who lost her lover in a shipwreck, so she walked into the sea to be with him. When she went to the water, the woman saw her lover and they sang to each other before joining each other in "the palace of the dead." It was a melancholy song, but Sarah had always liked it. Undying devotion and immortal love sounded like magic to her. There was something exciting about it that Sarah didn't quite understand yet, though she knew she would someday.

She wanted to be like the people in these stories and go on great adventures and have great love. Home was stuffy and boring and nothing like these stories. She wanted magic and mystery: not garlic and chores. Sarah wanted…Sarah wanted to be a witch or an enchantress or something wonderfully exciting. Part of her had hoped Aunt Violet was a witch, but Aunt Violet was far too boring to be any bit magical. Sarah wanted magic. Her friends thought her silly for wanting it, but she did anyway.

Sarah stood up from her spot and spread out her blanket like great red wings and ran about the cold sand. Shells were catching in her toes but she didn't care. Sarah sang the song aloud, laughing to herself and swirling in the sea wind. All alone, Sarah could be whatever she wanted. She was a nymph controlling the seas or a goddess empowering the winds. She was something magical and powerful and something so much more fun than just herself.

Then she stopped, a very keen and very distinctive feeling taking hold: Sarah was not alone.

There was someone there. Sarah heard them. Someone was singing. Just soft enough, but she did hear them. Her heart kicked in her chest and she turned but saw no one around. No, no it was for certain she had heard someone. Someone was singing. A low voice singing along to her ballad.

"Hello?" Sarah called in a much too quiet voice. Even were this person right next to her they couldn't have heard it. And there wasn't anyone right next to her. There was no one at all. Yet the notion of speaking much louder was terrifying.

She straightened, "Hello?" Louder this time and hopefully less terrified sounding. Nothing. Sarah should've expected as much. It was late and no doubt she was just tired. When given the impossible, the mind will usually grasp for some semblance of normalcy. So Sarah must just be tired or too caught in her fantasy for her own good.

"Hello."

Sarah gasped. She had heard someone. There was someone around. Of course she couldn't see them, so that was not helpful. Was it a spirit? She wondered. A ghost or some kind of angel?

It could not be...

"Hello," Sarah said again, for she could not think of anything else. This time it didn't speak. "Where are you? Why can't I see you?"

No voice, but it was not gone, she knew it. _Was it the man from the song?_ She wondered. The man who'd drowned in the water so long ago. Sarah looked back to the ocean and wondered if that's what it was. Which was silly. Superstitious. But superstitions seemed less silly when one was all alone at night. Well, not all alone, it seemed. _There no ghost singing to you in the ocean, Sarah._

She looked down. Yes, Sarah felt very clever. Maybe this spirit was invisible, but perhaps it left some sort of trace behind. Perhaps it would leave footprints. And there were footprints. Ones too large to be hers and too strong to have been there very long. I am clever, Sarah thought proudly and lunged towards the prints. The specter moved, evading her grasp, but Sarah would not lose. She did so hate to lose games.

"Wait!" Sarah squeaked as she followed the prints. It was like a game. A running game. Sarah was always the fastest at those games. Who are you? She wanted to scream. And how are you invisible? I didn't know people could be invisible.

Could vampires become invisible? Had Maria's father said that before? She thought maybe he had. But it couldn't be that this was...

She caught him! Sarah couldn't believe it, but she was definitely holding something. A sleeve. Yes, a sleeve of a shirt and her ghost did not move. Not a ghost, though, she decided. Sarah wondered if it were her angel but could not ask it for the angel didn't even know she called him that. But it couldn't be… A hand. Sarah found the specter's hand. It was cold and long and strangely bone like. She grasped it in her own though she didn't know why. It didn't feel scary.

A dog was barking. Aunt Violet was awake.

And in the next moment, Sarah was in her bed.

"What?" Sarah said aloud, sitting up and feeling her head pound like a nail. It was still night. It was still the same night and yet she was in her bed. No, no, it had not been a dream. Sarah had been on the beach. The dog was still barking. She looked and saw her blanket bundled next to her like it always was but… "No!"

She tossed her feet over and stumbled about her room. There was not a spec of sand upon her. It had been a dream. It had been a dream, but it could not have been a dream. Her brain was ringing as the dog clambered down the hallway, scratching at her door until Sarah let the damn thing in.

"What?!" She hissed as the great black beast ran to her window. It growled a low growl at the empty outdoors. "Shut up, you beast! You'll wake Aunt Violet!"

Sarah tried to push it but it was much larger than her and would not be moved.

"Fine," Sarah huffed, leaving it to its perch. "Well, I'm going to sleep, so do try to be quiet."

Back to her bed she went, but Sarah would not be able to sleep. It had not been a dream. It could not have been a dream. It was far too real to have been anything but. That hand. She'd touched that strange and cold hand. It was him, she decided. It had been her angel. Why had he run from her? It was not possible Sarah had frightened him.

She whispered, "Are you still there?"

Sarah waited for a long time, but no one answered. The dog kept growling. Sarah did not sleep.

**OOO**

_Idiot. Idiot. Gluttonous, stupid, selfish, idiot._

He was starving: he had not known hunger like this in years. It was all consuming. It was all possessing. It made him less a man and far more a monster.

_Idiot._

Why had he gone there? Some vastly selfish hope to see her and why? Why bother to see her at all? There were no ties to her. No ties but invisible ones he had created and inviable ones that were pulling his very skin apart. Idiot. He should not have spoken to her. He should not have let her touch his arm and hold his hand. There should have been no ties formed to begin with. He knew how stupid this was. He knew there was no good ending to this tale he had written.

She had been so sweet. Her starry eyes had been so wide when she took his hand in her small one. Then, like the disgusting thing he was, he wanted to… He'd been so hungry and she'd been so…

But he hadn't done it. It was the right thing but the monster hated him for it. He'd taken her away. He'd made her forget. Sarah needed to forget. It would be better if she forgot everything.

His whole body was reeling with the hunger. It was an impossible hunger.

"Sir?" Said a woman standing out front a restaurant. No doubt he looked rather suspicious, standing upon the corner and hanging in the shadows. He hadn't the energy to conceal himself. He'd been staring at the woman who was now gazing back. He had not been intentionally looking, but it seemed the woman was not bothered by it.

She flashed a smile that he could tell she'd flashed many times before. "Can I help you, sir?"

His throat was on fire.

"Yes, you can."

Von Krolock did not take another look at the woman or hear another sound from her as he tore his fangs into her flesh.


	4. Starchild

Sarah was fourteen (nearly fifteen) and a completely different person than she was when she was twelve.

The distance between thirteen and fourteen-nearly-fifteen is the distance of several countries lined up next to each other with ridges of mountains in the gaps. At least that's how it was for Sarah Chagal. No longer a baby was she, and no longer wasting her time playing princesses and dress up. Very nearly a grownup she was, or so she liked to think. And soon, if she was good, perhaps mama and papa would let her travel and she could go see the whole world. Maria got to travel all the time: why couldn't she?

But travels and fancies were not much a part of her life. School was done for her so now her parents made her assist them in the tavern. Which would've been better if not for the leering customers and general stress of it all. Luckily, none of the drunken men ever grew too brazen with her. Even when her father was gone they never tried anything too tricky. Sarah had wondered why that was, then she heard several women call her "the vampire girl" and she figured it out herself. Though she appreciated the lack of leering, she would rather it were for respect of her than fear of a vampire.

A vampire. Sarah had received no more presents from her angel since that night at Constanta. When Sarah had gone back for her second summer with Aunt Violet she'd hoped he'd appear again but he did not. Though the dogs would very often bark at things that were not there. Sarah would run to greet her angel, but he'd always fly away before she reached him. Or she was just insane. Sarah didn't know which was more feasible.

But this day, of all days, was a dreadful day. For Sarah had started her monthlies and was still required to run about the tavern because papa had gone on a trip and left her and mama alone to do absolutely everything. Worst of all was that it was Maria's birthday, so Sarah still had to work and was going to be horribly late to the birthday party. Everyone was going to be there and it was going to be so fun and Sarah was going to be late.

"Come sit, child, you look like you're about to keel over." A woman named Annabelle said with a soft smile. Annabelle was not a lady that Sarah's mother would very much want her sitting with. Annabelle was gypsy woman, Mama had said. They often received gypsies in the tavern, but they were handled far differently than other guests. While other guests could get drunk and rowdy without any trouble, a gypsy who did so would be turned out immediately. Mama and Papa did not much like the Romani.

Sarah, however, had no quarrel with them and did feel like she was about to keel over, so she took the woman's invite and sat across from her at the small table.

The woman spoke, "I've seen you here before. Always working. How old are you, my child?" Annabelle must've noticed how Sarah's eyes were gazing towards her uneaten bread so the gypsy pushed it to her gently. With a nod Sarah was given permission and greedily took a piece in hand.

"Fourteen," Sarah answered after swallowing her bite. Aunt Violet had been very sure to teach Sarah not to talk while she ate. "Nearly fifteen."

"Well, it is good to finally know you, fourteen-nearly-fifteen-Sarah." The woman had a laugh in her eyes that Sarah often saw on grownups. She'd already finished her bread before Annabelle spoke again. "You're always here. Do you have fun, child?"

Sarah nodded, "I'm going to my friend's birthday party today."

"Oh, a birthday party," Annabelle laughed lightly. "I've been to quite a few birthday parties." A mischievous light grew in her face. "I'm a fortune teller, you see."

Sarah's eyes grew in wonder, "A fortune teller?"

The woman nodded earnestly, "Cards and palms, mostly. Though I haven't my cards with me…I could read your palm if you'd like."

"Really?" Sarah felt herself leaning forward in excitement. But something in her caught. Romani, Mama and Papa had said, just wanted money. "I haven't any money to give you."

She waved her hand, "No charge for you, little princess. Now…" She waived her hands like she was conjuring something truly magnificent. "Let me see your hand."

Eagerly, Sarah stretched her hand out to the woman and Annabelle grasped the girl's wrist softly. It was then Sarah studied the woman. Her long sleeve had rolled up to reveal several slight cut marks upon her skin. Vampires. This woman knew the vampires. Sarah's mind drifted, though she hadn't meant it to. She wondered what it would be like to be Annabelle. The gypsies traveled wherever they wanted, with whomever they wanted. _They have lovers in every city in the world,_ ladies had whispered maliciously in gossip.

Sarah wondered what that would be like to have a lover. She did not quite understand how all of it worked, but something in it fascinated her endlessly. What if her lover were a vampire? Would it hurt to cut your skin and have them drink it? Or did it feel nice in some very strange way? Sarah imagined herself older and more beautiful dancing around a fire in Romani garb. Her angel too was there and soon he was dancing as well. Sarah would so love to dance, especially with him. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him…

Annabelle began, "You're a creative thinker, Miss Sarah." She began by touching the line in the middle of Sarah's palm. "One for fantasy and mystery." Her fingers moved up the palm. "You're moved by love, as well. You give it freely." She nudged Sarah softly. "A very good thing. And…" Her finger touched a line near Sarah's thumb. "A strong life line. Deep and curved means energy and vitality."

Her head cocked, "You've strong fate line as well. Many do not have this." Her finger moved down the middle of Sarah's hand. "Though it splits." She looked into Sarah's eyes. "A choice." Sarah knew not what she meant by that. "And here: A high Mount of Venus." The woman smiled at that too and again Sarah knew not why. "So it seems you've some star-crossed fated love ahead of you, Miss Sarah."

Sarah felt herself flush as the woman released Sarah's hand. Back to her lap she brought it, her hand feeling much more electric than ever before. Star-crossed love: that sounded adventurous. Even if the woman were simply mad, Sarah thought she must be at least a little bit magical.

She watched as Annabelle rolled her sleeve back up, but not before noticing Sarah's eyes on the slit marks there.

Annabelle grinned like a cat, "I've met all types in my travels. Vampires aren't even the scariest of them." As the gypsy brushed her arm, Sarah saw thoughts pass over Annabelle that she could not know. "Do you know much of vampires, my dear Starchild?"

"Starchild?" Sarah inquired dreamily.

"Someone special," Annabelle explained. "I think you might be a little bit magical, fourteen-going-on-fifteen-Sarah. I sense it in you."

"I'm not so special," Sarah mumbled though her cheeks were red. "And I do know about the…vampires." The word she spoke quietly for fear of looks.

"Don't you," Annabelle mused while looking to her nails. Sarah did not get that explained, for her mother soon rushed over and chided her for idleness. Rebecca Chagal did not much like the gypsies, and especially not the gypsy women. She had not liked them as a rule, but now especially disliked them since she had caught one of them with her husband. There had been several women Rebecca had caught her husband with, but the gypsies were the worst of them. Sarah need not be talking with such women. Especially given Sarah's history of less savory interests.

This Annabelle woman seemed to be a sort of leader of the gypsies. Rebecca knew the sort of creatures Annabelle kept the company of. The woman cared not if her lovers were human or monster, she took them all the same.

Rebecca let her daughter run off to the birthday party, for at least Sarah would be away from such an unsavory woman. It seemed Rebecca was not soon to be rid of them though. It had grown very late at night when Annabelle came to the bar, drink in hand, with her catlike grin upon her lips.

"Your daughter is lovely," Annabelle spoke. Rebecca could not help but think something sinister in the comment. "It's a pity such a flower stays tucked away."

"Sarah is my daughter, Annabelle. I do for her what I think is best."

"Hmm," Annabelle mused as her smiled flickered to some drunken man at the end of the bar. Rebecca was absolutely fuming. How dare this Romani woman come into her bar and cause such a stir? The woman was flirting with everyone and everything and all the wives had become exceptionally jealous. Rebecca would hear of this upset, not Annabelle. They should've banned the gypsies years ago.

Rebecca huffed, "I'll thank you to leave, Annabelle. You've caused enough upstart tonight and I doubt you've the money to pay for all you drank. I don't need you here upsetting people with your…ways."

"With my ways?" Annabelle repeated, a light growing in her eyes. She thought, for a moment, the gypsy woman might hex her. Instead, she finished her drink slowly and carefully before setting it upon the bar. "Your daughter is so lovely, Madame Chagal. Others have noticed it as well, I know this for fact."

Rebecca inhaled, "What are you talking-"

"You know exactly what I am talking about, Madame Chagal." The gypsy woman pulled out a small purse and from it brought fourth far too many coins that necessary. She poured them onto the bar deliberately. "Have a nice night, Madame Chagal. And I'd be sure to see your daughter comes home tonight."

**OOO**

"Sarah, don't!" She heard her friends behind her, but she did not care. Elijah Stowenn and his stupid friend Ioan would not laugh at her today. This was her dare, her big dare, and Sarah would not back down. In fact, it wasn't even that scary of a dare. Maria had been dared to kiss Elijah, and that had been scary.

The party would've been more fun if Maria had not announced that her family was moving mid-way through it. Sarah's truest friend was moving and all because her father had to get a new job. Sarah knew not why it was all done in such a hurry, but no one seemed to want to talk about it. Instead, Maria had suggested games. Games and lots of games and now the game was one of dares. And if this were the last game of dares she were to play with Maria, Sarah was not going to back down.

The castle. Sarah had been dared to go and touch the castle. Not a hard dare, but not a dare anyone wished to complete. They said that if you stepped onto the castle grounds you would be eaten by vampires. Sarah knew that was silly: vampires didn't eat you. And they certainly wouldn't eat her. Maybe her angel no longer left her gifts, but Sarah knew he had not forgotten her. She felt him near her all the time even if he didn't wish to be seen.

Everyone waited far outside the grounds for her to do it. They'd walked so far already just to come near the castle and now it stared at Sarah like some great dragon on the hill. She wanted to go inside of it. Not since she was six had she been inside of it. Many times she'd walked past and many times she'd gazed, but rarely had she been this close to it. Everything seemed to halt as Sarah came near to it.

It was like…it was like the castle wanted her to touch it. No, no…it wanted her to go inside. It wanted her to step inside and join the court of vampires. It sang to her and Sarah knew somewhere inside of her that this was where she was meant to be. Annabelle had said something about that. Something about fate and being special… Special people lived in this castle. Sarah was a Starchild. She was special.

There was a voice. A soft voice that was sweet and wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Like her red blanket. It was the voice from the sea. Yes, her angel. For it was an angel, wasn't it? The angel she had prayed for all those nights ago, it lived here in the castle. It wanted her to go inside. It did, for it was singing to her. _Sarah, Sarah,_ it was saying. She did so want to go into the castle. If she went to the castle, she would be a princess. She'd be free.

_Sarah, Sarah,_ she moved towards it as it hummed the song she'd sang at the beach. The woman was going towards the drowned man and he was saying how he loved her and how they'd always be together... Wouldn't that be nice? To always be together.

"Sarah!" Maria yelped, grabbing her friend's hand. Her eyes looked at Sarah like she had gone mad. Sarah had not even heard her friend approaching. "We have to leave!" And Maria's eyes darted to the castle gates that had now opened. When had they opened? Why could they not go inside? The gates wanted her to go inside. They were glowing yellow…no green…and the green light wanted her.

"Don't you hear that?" Sarah inquired softly. _Sarah, my Sarah,_ sang the kind voice. Yes, Sarah needed to stay. The voice wanted her to stay. She did not want to upset the voice.

Maria pulled her, "Let's go, Sarah. Come on!"

But she didn't want to. Didn't Maria know that Sarah didn't want to? Sarah wanted to stay. She needed to stay. They wanted her to stay. Sarah was pulled away by Maria regardless for Maria had no regards for the singing. No, Sarah whimpered but followed suit regardless. They were gone and back to Maria's house before Sarah's mind could catch up to her. And when it did it was absolutely flooded with thoughts. Fantastical thoughts. The gypsy woman had said Sarah was good at those.

Sarah thought of a ballroom. A beautiful ballroom filled with all those fantastical creatures. Vampires, hundreds of them. Sarah could see them as clearly as though they were before her. They were dancing and twirling and Sarah was searching for her partner. There he was. Right in front of her. Her angel. Sarah beamed as they danced. Her dress was white. No red. Perhaps blue. She could not tell. It was wonderful. It would all be so wonderful. He'd kiss her. He'd kiss her and they'd dance...

Sarah so wanted to be kissed, but certainly not by Elijah or Ioan.

"Sarah," Maria took her hand. Sarah was not in a ballroom, but her friend's front parlor. Moving away, Sarah remembered. Maria was moving away. Sarah was going to be all alone. Yet if she went to the castle, perhaps she would not be alone. Maria and Sarah were alone. Everyone had left. They had left when Sarah went to the castle.

Her friend continued, "Sarah, I think you should stay away from the castle."

"What?" Sarah blinked, all things coming into focus. For it had been Maria that Sarah had told all her secrets to. It had been Maria who thought everything so interesting and not scary. Maria had wanted Sarah to tell her everything and swooned at every word.

"I think you should stay away," Maria pressed ardently. "Those...creatures are not good. They do bad things. They make people do bad things."

"What are you talking about-"

Maria shook her head, "It doesn't matter. Just stay away. Promise me you'll stay away."

"I-"

"Promise!" Maria seemed so very certain about this that all Sarah could do was nod. Her friend breathed. "Good. Good. Now, um, everyone's left, but you can stay the night if want. It is dark. You shouldn't go home."

"I'll be fine," Sarah said softly. She was frightened but didn't quite know why. "It's not far. Mama's probably worried anyway."

It seemed Maria was not happy about this plan, for she hesitated a bit longer than normal before nodding and giving Sarah a great hug. Sarah promised to visit every day until the move, a promise she intended to keep. The other one... The other one was perhaps a bit more of a lie. They make people do bad things. Sarah hadn't the faintest idea what that meant but Maria seemed very sure of it. But Sarah wanted... She wanted what she'd seen in her mind's eye. A ballroom and dancing a beautiful dress and a kiss from a vampire...

It was then Sarah realized she had not even touched the castle. She had not even completed the dare.

Which made her mother's reaction all the more ridiculous.

For Rebecca was furious, absolutely furious that Sarah would do something so foolish. Though the girl insisted it were part of a game, Rebecca scolded her for being so idiotic as to partake in it. Touch the vampire's castle. God, it was like Sarah didn't even care. That was it, wasn't it: the girl didn't care. She didn't care about rumors or what she was…encouraging. This behavior was encouraging and it needed to stop. It needed to have stopped years ago.

The words of that gypsy woman were screaming in Rebecca's mind. They were empty threats, Rebecca had thought. Even if they were, what Sarah had done was still very wrong. Even if there were no such…infatuations…what Sarah had done would make those creatures upset. They were already not happy with Chagal for he never made rent. Spent all the money on idiotic things instead of the rent that had to be paid.

Perhaps the vampire would take Sarah as punishment for their ill finances.

Sarah whimpered, "Mama, I didn't do anything wrong! Maria came and got me-"

"Maria Reeds has been a horrible influence on you!" Rebecca bellowed as she drug her daughter to her room. Garlic. They'd need more garlic. Crosses. Sarah should wear a cross. They'd bathe her in blessed water if they needed to. "How dare you think it acceptable to even go near the place, especially in your condition-"

"Mama!" Sarah proclaimed with a blush. There were tenants in the halls and the tenants had heard, but Rebecca cared not what they thought. She pushed her daughter into her bedroom while a horrified look grew on her face. Of course Rebecca knew her daughter was bleeding: the maids told Rebecca everything. And to think Sarah would think it fine to be near vampires while she was bleeding-

Rebecca huffed, "Go to bed now, Sarah. We'll discuss things in the morning."

Sarah seemed to want to say something, but Rebecca shut the door before a word was spoken.

**OOO**

He'd watched as the friend gave her warnings and the mother yelled. He watched now as Sarah laid her head upon her pillows and muttered fervent prayers to a God she still believed in. There was no God, that he knew, and perhaps he could spare her if he told her so. Yet there was something so sweet and pure in her words that he could not tell her otherwise.

"I don't know what to do," the girl spoke to God as though he were standing in her room and not Von Krolock. "I thought you'd given me and angel, but now I don't know. And it makes mama and papa so cross. And I'll miss Maria so much. I'll have no friends at all when she leaves. I just want…I want to leave. I don't know to where…"

He stopped listening to the girl's prayer as he smelt the blood upon her. Every moment he thought he could control it, the fever would take him over once again. For a year this had been happening and yet still he'd come to see her. He could barely go three days without seeing her and he had absolutely no explanation for the power this child had over him. Von Krolock attempted to ignore the scent and caught the end of her prayer.

"…don't send my angel away, please. Let him be good. Let him be a good angel."

_I am neither of those things_ , he mused as he moved nearer to her. Sarah, his Sarah. He wanted her to see him. He was unsure why he wanted this so suddenly, but the need overtook him instantly. She'd not sensed him since she held his hand and that had been a mistake. Maybe this would not be a mistake. If she just looked at him, everything would be far better. How he wanted her. He could not remember desiring anything as he desired Sarah.

He hadn't time to consider it, for Sarah raised her head and stared him right in the eyes.

"You're here," Sarah's eyes were wide and full of innocence. It made him damn every feeling that was tearing at his chest. She stepped towards him like he was something made of magic, her hand reaching to touch him but lowering before it did. "You're really here."

From her lips there was the lightest of laughs and she was so young. No one was as young as she. It didn't do anything to tell himself that for the beast tearing up his insides did not care for the morality of it. Frankly, neither did he. For they were alone now, and that was dangerous. They were alone and everyone else was downstairs and lost to drink or lust and would not know until morning that he had taken her. And in the morning they'd be far away at the castle, her resting safely in his arms...

A foolish fancy. Was he a child too to think such romantic and sentimental thoughts? It seemed he might've been.

His fingers reached to brush her cheek. He found it soft and hot with a flush. _I'm not an angel, Sarah,_ he wanted to say. _Not even slightly._ Yet she smiled when he touched her and he could not wait another moment. Sarah would be his as he'd always intended her to be. He could not restrict himself anymore, for there had been no reason to from the start. Von Krolock as not a moral creature. Ethics and truth meant little to a creature such as him. He wanted Sarah. He'd wanted her for ages so why deny himself any longer? She deserved better than the life she had. The life she'd have with him would be better, luxurious, and unending. An unending Sarah...

Someone was at the door. Before they even knocked he knew there was someone at the door and suddenly his being was flooded with light. What was he doing? What was he doing with this child? There was no life he could give her. There was no sentimental fantasy. There was death. Death and only more death. This was a sign, this person's arrival. Von Krolock needed to leave.

"Please, wait!" Sarah begged when he faded back into the shadows. There were tears in her voice. "My angel, please don't leave me!"

A knock at the door and Sarah squeaked at the noise of it. Brushing back her tears, she trotted to her door and opened it to the mother.

Leave now, hissed whatever by of humanity was in him. Leave her and get out.

His mouth was salivating while he gazed at her. Beautiful Sarah. The scent of her was filling up every space in the small bedroom and every part of his body. So sweet. Such an innocent little thing. He watched while she ended her conversation and shut her door tightly. Her sparkling eyes darted about the room, looking and pining for him. She wants you, whispered that voice. Take her, for she wants you.

Von Krolock moved from the shadows again and his Sarah beamed to see him. _She does think me fantastical,_ he thought with a prideful smirk. _I am not so much so, my precious._ And he stepped towards her, reaching for her little hands and bringing them to his lips. Sarah's eyes grew at the gentlemanly gesture, though he'd done it to inhale her scent. Sweet and pure was the pulse through her veins. He needed her. She was his.

Yet he let go over her hands and stepped back towards the window.

"Wait!" Sarah followed him closely. "Please, don't go!"

_I want you to kiss me,_ Sarah thought, even though it was a very stupid wish. She was not exactly sure why she wanted to kiss him so badly. She should not be wanting to kiss him. Sarah should be wanting to kiss boys. Elijah Stowenn, Grant Bree, or Ioan Samuels are who she should want to be kissing. Someone near her own age and human, not this much older vampire. But Sarah hardly cared. That vision played in her mind. The beautiful ballroom, the dancing, the kiss...

And he did wait. She'd asked him to and he did. Why wasn't he speaking? He had not said a word since he appeared.

He stepped forward, his hands cupping her face and she thought he might do it: she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he leaned from his great height and placed a kiss upon her forehead. It seemed he was trying to inhale her in some very peculiar way. Sarah wanted to be in his arms. It would be so nice to be in his arms. They'd fly away together and she would be a princess. A beautiful princess in a beautiful ball gown...

"Take me with you."

"Sarah-"

"Please," the little thing grasped his sleeves in such a childlike way. "Please, I want to go with you."

Go with him. Von Krolock could not remember a time when anyone wanted to go with him. Perhaps that's what was so peculiar about this girl: she wanted him. She was not frightened of him. As much as he wanted her, she wanted him. _She knows not what she wants, and what you want has not even come into her mind. This is vile. You should not have showed yourself to her, you should not be standing here holding her hands._ And yet the little thing had very much enslaved him. That was terrifying in its own right to realize such a small thing had any sort of dominion over him. Dominion he had given her, though he could not remember precisely when. Sarah ruled over every part of him and he had allowed her to do so.

This was a mistake, he stepped away from her though her intoxicating spell did not wish to release him. Forget, he willed her easily. Forget this.

"No," Sarah whimpered from somewhere behind him and he froze. "No, it was not a mistake. Don't make me forget. Please."

She had heard him. His thoughts…she had heard them. Impossible. It was not possible that she had and yet… Sarah was no witch. Sarah was nothing of great power or note so how on earth had she heard him? No one had ever heard his thoughts before. There was something different about Sarah. This fixation he had upon her was not as random as he had once thought. Yes, something strange about her. He'd always sensed it, but never thought that there was fruition in it. She had heard him. How on earth had she heard him?

Sarah moved closer, "My angel-"

"I'm not an angel, Sarah," he hissed suddenly. "Forget. Go to sleep. This was a dream."

"I-"

"This was a dream."

Sarah did and she dreamt of angels and ball gowns and did not remember that he had been in her room and she had seen him. He tried not think about how much of an idiot he'd been when he returned to the castle that night. Something indeed was strange about Sarah. How had he not detected it? He could always spot other beings of the supernatural, so how had he not spotted her? Maybe she wasn't supernatural, but something indeed was odd with her.

As he turned through books, the only thing he realized was his obsession was growing. He had to have her. It was not a question of if, but when, for he would not let her fly away from him. She was now too young, but he could withstand it if there was a promise: a promise that she would be his eventually. Of course he could not tell her this, but he needed her to know. He needed her to promise. This miraculous little being had to be his.

On Sarah's fifteenth birthday there were waiting three primroses on her red blanket. Sarah knew not what this meant but knew whom they were from. They were lovely, these flowers, and lovelier was the pair of earrings beneath them. Beautiful and so fine. Sarah tucked them away with her hair comb form years ago. For her own amusement, she wore both of them with her nightdress and pretended she was some great queen presiding over her court. It was great fun.

There were no more gifts until the next year when left was two primroses and a bracelet. Two primroses instead of three and a bracelet.

A countdown. Sarah didn't know why she thought of it, but she was certain that's what this was. On her seventeenth, she would get one primrose she imagined. What of her eighteenth? What would she get then?

Sarah knew. Knowing it filled up her insides and made her heart feel fit to burst. A ball would be waiting for her on her eighteen. A beautiful ball at the castle. He would be waiting for her on her eighteenth. She would get her kiss. She would be a princess.

Sixteen year old Sarah tucked her goodies away beneath the floor board and headed downstairs for breakfast. She supposed she could endure two more years of this life if she got to be a princess at the end of it.


	5. Blood

Of course they all knew about Sarah.

Their fearless leader and his infatuation with a young girl. Herbert still thought it slightly ridiculous, but he supposed it was not his place to judge. He was not an entirely moral creature himself (none of them were) yet Sarah was often the gossip among them. Her name was whispered in the halls and discussed in the sitting rooms. Everything was Sarah Chagal.

There was something slightly odd about her that Herbert could not quite put his finger upon. If there were something strange about her, perhaps it would maker father's infatuation make sense. For now, Herbert saw no reason in it. The girl was sweet, he supposed. Beautiful, certainly. He supposed it would be nice to have her in the castle. No one knew had joined their brood in ages and perhaps after father would not be so disgustingly brooding all the time if he had his pet by his side. Or he'd finally get her and then forget about her. Father had done that before, but never with one he fixated upon as he fixated upon Sarah. In fact, Herbert had not known his father to ever be as fixated upon anyone as he was with Sarah.

Father had decided to wait until Sarah's eighteenth birthday, which seemed disgustingly cliché and dramatic but father was often cliché and dramatic.

Herbert could not help but feel a pang of loneliness as he thought about the whole ordeal. It would be nice, he supposed, to have someone to fixate upon.

**OOO**

Sarah Chagal was now seventeen and she liked bubble baths, going to the city to see Maria, and the fact that she would be eighteen next year. She disliked having to assist in the tavern, overly hot days, and the new maid. The maid's name was Magda and everyone seemed to enjoy her company over Sarah's. Magda had just moved from a neighboring city and her newness brought her much attention. Sarah didn't like just how much attention she was receiving.

She did not like hot days either, for hot days drew in more people and Sarah did not like working. What she did like was escaping. Summers in Constanta were not entirely escaping, but summers in the cities to visit Maria were. Sarah liked the city so much more than the shore. The city was exciting and private in a way Constanta wasn't. There was anonymity in the city and Sarah liked that. She liked feeling like she could be whatever she wanted.

Her deepest pleasure were baths. Sarah would bathe every night should papa not catch her. They had brought in a new tub, a perk for one of the suites, but no one ever stayed there so Sarah had taken the bath as her own. Though papa would still be cross at her use of it, Sarah hardly cared. Sarah hardly cared about anything as the oil and bubbles coated her skin. Her mother told her only prostitutes perfumed themselves as much as Sarah did but she didn't care. Sarah adored smelling nice. Nothing ever smelt nice in the tavern.

Sarah also enjoyed her fantasy world. The world was quieter now and far smaller, but Sarah liked it all the same. She'd received a beautiful necklace from her angel and one flower had been left this year. One instead of two and Sarah thought it was counting to her eighteenth birthday. Would something miraculous happen then? Sarah wished so. Would they take her then, her vampires, and she'd go to live in the castle with them? The scene was very lavish in Sarah's mind. It would be like a wedding, this joining of the castle. A wedding to Count Von Krolock. Which was silly, for he did not want to marry her.

No, vampires were not for marriage. If he wanted anything, it was her blood. And if he wanted the other thing then…then Sarah knew what the other thing was. She had never done it, this other thing, but she knew what it was. Would she like to do that? Sarah didn't know and not knowing made her blush.

As she lay in her tub on one late summer's night, Sarah let her mind wander to her fantasy world. What a wonderful escape the castle would be. Sarah so badly wanted to escape. Aunt Violet said the only way a woman was free was in marriage, but no one wanted to marry Sarah. Whispers and rumors still tainted her as 'the vampire girl.' No one from her village wanted to marry the vampire girl. No one was brave enough to even tempt it.

Sarah had gotten a kiss though. A boy named Samuel gave her a kiss on a spring night after a dance. She had quite liked the kiss, but Samuel had left with the other Romani. Sarah had not seen him again. She did not think of him often.

The stupid thing she thought of all the time was the castle. The castle and those inside of it. Sarah had heard singing that night of the dare, she knew she had. The castle had wanted her. He had wanted her. It was a wonderful and terrible notion to be wanted by a vampire. Sarah hadn't even the slightest idea why. She had not seen him since she was six. She'd sensed him…but not seen him. Why did he like her? Why did he leave her little gifts and linger in the air around her?

She'd like to think it was for love, but knew it was not.

" _Deep in the dark of the night with you,_ " Sarah sang softly as she washed. " _Deep in the dark of the sea so blue. I know your arms are strong and true. Deep in the dark of the night with you._ " She hummed the verse. The woman of the story was walking towards the ocean, pulled in by the call of her lover. It was Sarah's most favorite song. She dipped her sponge in the water and drew it up her arm.

That was when she door opened and she saw her father red with rage.

"How many times do I have to tell you: this bath is not for you!" He screamed and Sarah nearly stood up before he screamed at her to stay in the water. Slamming the door behind him, her father left and Sarah vacated the tub instantly. She opened the door to her room and locked it shut behind her.

Another thing Sarah disliked: being scolded.

**OOO**

For a week in the summer, Sarah went to visit Maria who now lived in the city with her family. Her father taught at a university and they lived in a lovely flat and Sarah wished to live with them. It was so much nicer than her dingy tenant home. And the room were not filled with strangers and drunks. Maria could walk to restaurants and store and coffee houses and Sarah wanted all of it. Next to the castle, there was no place more magical than the city.

On the night when the strange thing happened, Sarah and Maria had taken a walk in a nearby garden. It was not an exceptionally dangerous garden so Sarah had seen no harm walking through it. It was not far either from the flat and Maria often took walks at night. Nothing should've been bizarre about this.

"I've been taking classes at the university," Maria revealed with a sly grin. "I want to teach. Like father."

"That's wonderful," Sarah replied. There was a strange pang in her chest. "I haven't any idea what I want to do."

"You'll be a great explorer!" Maria suggested with a nudge. "You'll travel the world and publish your journey in bestselling books."

Sarah laughed seeing the vision play in her head. Sarah the explorer. Sarah the brave. It would be so fantastic to travel the world. It was so much bigger than her little corner of it and Sarah wanted to see it all. But she hadn't money or means or any way to leave where she was. Perhaps Aunt Violet was right. Maybe the only way to freedom was marriage. Sarah would marry some man from some far away city and then she'd travel the world with him.

She thought of Count Von Krolock. She didn't know why.

Maria beamed, "I was thinking: you and I should get a flat here in the city. You're a good bar maid, you can get a job. I've a job at a shop and between us we'd certainly have enough money."

"That sounds wonderful," Sarah said. And it did, it certainly did. Yet it made her think of the primroses. Just one had been left this year. Something was going to happen soon and Sarah didn't want to miss it. Even so…

Suddenly, Maria gripped her friend's arm very tightly. "Sarah, we need to leave."

"What?" Sarah whispered but Maria was already walking very quickly. It was then she saw it. Three men staring at them from the other side of the street. Three men who did not look so friendly and certainly now looked like they were following them. Sarah glanced at them, her insides turning. Maria and she walked faster, but the men started running.

"Run!" Maria hissed and Sarah eagerly complied. Her heart was pounding and her vision was blurring. Who on earth were these men and why on earth were they chasing them? Where had they come from? They caught Sarah's arms and she tried to scream but another cupped her mouth. Sarah's heart was about to burst. Why did these men want to hurt her? Sarah didn't even know them. She didn't even know them, why should they-

There was a horrible noise and suddenly Sarah was not being held anymore. She looked around and saw Maria had fallen onto the pavement. The friend was moving though her nose bled and her eyes fixed in horror upon something behind Sarah. Two of the men were lying upon the ground in a scene Sarah could never forget. One lay with his head twisted an impossible way, the other with his throat ripped out so it seemed he wore a horrible blanket of blood. With another horrible noise, the third man dropped to the ground, his throat equally dislodged.

Sarah felt herself stumble back, her stomach flipping in on itself. There was a fourth man.

A fourth man who was tall and Sarah instantly recognized. Her angel. Her angel no longer so angelic. He had killed them. He had killed them because they had tried to hurt her. Why would he… Why… Sarah gazed at him as he moved nearer, yet she knew he meant her no harm. He certainly meant her no harm. She felt her skin tingle as he moved towards her and noted there were cuts from where then men had grabbed her. Sarah could hardly feel them.

Count Von Krolock moved into the light and Maria screamed loud enough to pierce the clouds and took off in a run. Sarah supposed he did look fearful. He looked different that she had remembered him. He seemed greyer now, more angular. His eyes burned red like coals as he stared at her. His lips, chin, neck, and shirt were all doused in the blood of those awful men. He had killed them. He had killed them for her. He was following her. He was _watching_ her.

It seemed he expected her to do what Maria had done, but Sarah could not move. It was like he had transfixed her to that spot. She did not want to move. She wanted to ask him about the flowers, and the earrings, and the bracelet, and the necklace. She wanted to ask why he was always with her even when she did not realize that he was. She wanted to touch him, so she reached a hand to his cheek even though it was bloodied. It stained her white hand red. His eyes burned as he stared at her.

"Sarah!" Her friend bellowed as though she'd caught Sarah doing something truly revolting.

Sarah blinked. What was she doing? What was wrong with her? She'd just seen this man kill. Kill and brutally murder those men and now she was touching his cheek. Her hand dropped to her side but he grabbed her wrist swiftly. Would he take her now? Would she go to the castle now?

The oddest sensation of everything loosing color then fading away took over her and Sarah fell back onto the cobblestones.

**OOO**

In fear she'd hurt her head, they'd taken Sarah to the hospital first and then she was sent back home. Maria hardly said a word, but Sarah knew she'd upset her. There would be no flat in the city now. Maria would not want to live with Sarah now. Sarah had upset everyone, especially mother and father. They said she was 'encouraging that monster.' Encouraging. Sarah was not encouraging him. Father had been absolutely horrified to hear it. God, they acted like she'd kissed him not just touched his cheek. She hadn't even meant to. She didn't know why she'd done it.

They acted like she'd wanted those men to hurt her too. The whole thing was horrible.

Now Sarah lay in a bath that was probably too hot for her and let the heat numb her mind. They'd let her in the new bath because the doctor said it would help with her arms. Her mother had almost refused yelling that 'the monster' would come to Sarah when she was alone. Rebecca said she'd seen him standing over Sarah's hospital bed but Sarah doubted that was true. Her mother liked to be dramatic. She had relented however and let Sarah bathe on her own.

Encouraging him. Sarah had not been encouraging anyone. It was not like she'd stormed the castle, ripped off her dress, and started praising Satan in front of them. Never had she encouraged him. Never had she even _seen_ him, save that time when she was girl. That time at the beach… The gifts and the flowers…

Encouraging him. Sarah was certain she had not been encouraging him. She'd kept that bear until it was ripped from her, but she was nine! It had not been for lustful yearning that she kept the bear, but for want of the toy! That was all! There was nothing unholy in wanting a companion. And talking with Maria and her father...that was just talking! Sarah had summoned no one, asked for nothing! Her parents were being...horrible. They're always being horrible. _They hate me._

Sarah fell back into the sudsy water, the heat not numbing her mind anymore. _Maybe I should encourage him,_ she thought grimly to herself. _I could go to the castle. I could be a countess. I'd be immortal and powerful and no one would ever hurt me again. Mama and papa would feel so bad for how cruel they've been to me. They'd feel terrible._

Why did they hate her? She had done nothing wrong. She had done nothing at all wrong. Sarah didn't aim to be a tease or be flirtatious or be especially sensual or alluring. She could not help how her body looked or how men viewed it. She couldn't help if this Count Von Krolock had taken some interest in her. At least someone had taken some interest in her. Sarah dived under the hot water, wetting her hair and letting the soap slide through the knots. She wanted to sink away like the woman in the song.

" _Sink into the dark with me,_ " Sarah sang the man's part softly as she came out of the water. " _Drift away and you will see. Never was there a love so true. Deep in the dark of the night with you._ " The song soothed her in its strange way.

After a while she got out of her bath, wrapped herself in a towel and stepped back to her bedroom. The maid would clear the water. The new maid everyone liked more than her.

Sarah's hair was in tangles as she rung it out, so she went to her dressing table to comb it. Dropping the towel, Sarah wrapped herself in her robe and brushed through the knots on her head. I am not alluring, Sarah thought as she looked at her wet and red face. _Papa and Mama are wrong. They're mean. I'm not..._ the tears took her again and she dropped her head to the dressing table. _I hate it here. I hate it._

Suddenly, a thought filled her mind. A dangerous thought, definitely, but she kept thinking it regardless. Sarah sat up, stood up, and paced back near her window. The night stars looked down at her from her tiny portal to the world. _If they think I encourage him, then perhaps I will. Perhaps he can save me._

"I don't know if you're listening," Sarah spoke to the empty and static air. _You are insane, Sarah Chagal._ "And I don't know why you help me. But if you are listening and..." _This is idiotic, Sarah_ said as her eyes filled with tears to spite her. _What the hell are you doing?_ Taking a step back from her window, Sarah slid back into her room and sat upon her bed. _Begging for a vampire to take you away: this is ridiculous, Sarah. You are ridiculous._

"Help me," she whimpered. Whether it was to God or to the vampire she didn't even know. She remembered her stupid prayers begging for angels to come and take her. Silly prayers. Childish prayers. There were no angels to come save her. "P-please. Please. I hate it here. I can't stand it. Send someone. Please. Anyone. I can't..." Sarah blubbered and fell onto her back. She twisted to her side and gazed at the wall until she fell asleep.

_Take her,_ screamed ever fiber in his body. _She wants you to do it, so do it. Take her._ Von Krolock was standing right inside her window. The parents were asleep now: no one would see him. He moved closer to her, coming so close to nearly touch her but thinking better of it. Young, still too young. He recalled that ridiculous notion he'd had years ago of keeping her at the castle until she was old enough. Yet he would not be able to control himself should she live at the castle. He would not be able to control it at all.

She had grown to be so beautiful, just as he suspected. As she grew older the beauty would blossom further. Her young and gangly body now had the beginning lines and curves of a woman. Her skin was pale as milk and her hair a dark auburn. Not set, it looked chocolate brown upon her pillow. He had a very vivid vision of wrapping her locks in his fist and pressing her against his lips. Still too young, he knew that, but the thought remained. This was obsession, just as his son had noted. This strange starchild filled his days and his nights with wanting and yearning. _Take her. Why wait? She is beautiful and she is young. Take her now, for she wants you. No doubt some other men will notice how beautiful and young she is._

Sarah with another man. The thought had simply not occurred to him. What if one were to catch her fancy and she fall in love? What if she were to be married and have a child? Could he take her away? Could he stay and watch her live a life with another being? _She'd be happier in that life,_ he told himself. _If you had even a thread of decency in you, you'd let her have that life._

It was said that if you loved something, you were meant to let it go. Perhaps he didn't love Sarah, for he certainly would not let her go.

_Take her now then, before another man does. Take her now._

And he was going to. Something in his inhibitions rotted away and he was going to. Von Krolock stepped forward, smelling her intoxicating scent and was going to take her. They didn't want her. Damn them, they didn't want her. But he did. He wanted her. He wanted her and he'd never not want her. She would be his and he'd be far better to her than they had ever been. Sarah would live in luxury for all eternity at his side. At his side. Yes, yes, he wanted her. Like a man, he wanted her. In one bite she would be his. In one bite everything would be fine. This incessant pain in his chest would leave him. This hunger, this lust, would be gone and replaced by a new one.

Von Krolock was about to take her when she suddenly turned and saw his face. He knew she saw her face, for he wasn't hiding. Why hide? He was certain she was asleep. He was certain she was not going to turn around and see him and-

"Wait!" Sarah hissed but he was already gone. She whimpered a cry, falling against her head board. From the shadows he watched her as she scanned the room desperately for a sign of him. Idiot, idiot man. "Please."

_Go to sleep, Sarah,_ he wanted to tell her but knew he could not speak.

"Fine," Sarah laid back and looked up at her ceiling. "It's fine. I..." She breathed, deep and long breaths that filled her body. Sarah's eyes were caught by something on her arm, and she ran her fingers over cuts and bruises that had grown there. Those disgusting beasts. He should've done worse to them. He should've done everything imaginable to them.

_Why are you hiding from a little girl?_ Hissed that voice in his head. It's true, why hide? He could make her forget if he didn't want to be known. Or he could take her now, like he should do, and stop all of this brooding.

Sarah stepped out of her bed and for a moment he feared she could see him. Instead, she went to her loose floorboard and pulled the blanket out from underneath. She slid it over her shoulder and then for a moment she caught a reflection of herself in the mirror. Holding out the sides, Sarah twirled in the reflection like she had when she was a child. It pulled at his heart to watch it: why was he watching her? He should go, surely. Sarah knew he was here, she had to know. How he wanted her.

Sarah slipped and dropped to the ground, feeling like an absolute idiot. That's quite frankly all she felt like of late. Especially tonight. Tonight was a terrible night. She'd been hurt and humiliated and forced into her room like a convict into a cell. She'd seen him, her angel, and he'd flown away from her. They had been right, though: he was in her room. It did not scare her as much as it scared them.

Something was stinging on her wrist. She looked down to see a thin red ribbon bubbling up on her pale skin. A scar from her fall had opened again and was now trickling along her skin like a small red river. Sarah felt the thickness of the air like it were a thing she could reach out and grasp. He was here, her angel. Maybe he wasn't an angel but Sarah liked thinking of him as such. Would he come out now? Would he want her blood? Would he make her into what he was? The very thought riled her insides wildly. She could escape. With his help, she'd run away and no one would miss her. She could be a princess.

But he did not come out. No, no he never liked to be seen. Sarah felt the blood drip from her wrist and onto the floor and was filled with another idea. A stupid idea. A really, really stupid idea, but Sarah did it anyways. She stood, moving to her window and letting drops of blood fall into the sill. She wasn't sure why she picked the window. The floor had seemed odd. It's blood, you freak, it's odd regardless. Nevertheless, Sarah let it fall. She squeezed her fist and to make the last few small drops appear and then went back to her bed.

_What am I doing?_ She thought fearfully as she gazed at her window sill. It wasn't that much blood at all. In fact, she could not even see it from where she lay. What on earth had possessed her to do such a thing? Ridiculous, stupid. _Please come._ Sarah begged in the back of her mind. _Please please please._

He could not move. Moving meant he would do something reckless and he could not do something reckless. This was a mistake. All of it, the whole eleven years, a mistake. Sarah was young. Sarah was so young and confused and she didn't need him she needed sunlight and children and life and things he couldn't give her. _Get off you're fucking pedestal. You're not good. You're not kind and forgiving and loving and doting. You are none of these things. You want her. You want her so take her. Save his morality, you have no morality. Morality does not matter. Show her. Take her. She wants you to take her._

The blood. The blood on the window sill. What a strange thing. What a strange thing she was.

He touched his finger to it. He should not have done that. He brought it to his tongue and he certainly should not have done that. He heard her sniffling cries from her bed and they were driving him mad. Her blood was wonderful. He wanted her so badly. No one would know. If he took her now, no one would know.

No. No, not yet. Sarah would not be his yet. He wanted things ready for her. Sarah was his and Sarah was special. She would be his. She would be his, but not quite yet. Soon, so very soon. Just moments away, really. He needed her to wait. Sarah just needed to wait.

"Soon, my Starchild." He sat upon her bed and brushed back her hair. "We'll be together soon."

She opened her eyes to see him, but he had already gone.

**OOO**

Several months later, a young man and a professor made their way through the snowy mountains of Transylvania. Why the professor had chosen now to go on this expedition was beyond the young man, but the old man was always very set once he had decided something. It wasn't as though the young man had much say in the matter. Orphaned at barely five years old, he was either to become a scholar or become a beggar and the former had sounded much more satisfying. That was until he found the way to his scholardom was by following a flighty professor around the world on monster hunts.

The young man hummed a song to himself as he walked. Some Romanian folk song about a woman drowning herself for her lover. The young man thought that an extremely bizarre thing to do. What sort of love would require one to kill oneself? I'm going to kill myself by following the professor, the man mused.

The professor was a genius, crazy as he was, and the boy was extremely blessed to be studying with him. If the young man wanted to study the supernatural and there was no better man with whom to study and no better place to study than Transylvania. He had loved studying these inexplicable beasts from the comfort of a classroom, but found studying them in reality far less cushy. They'd been traveling for weeks now with nothing to show for it. The professor had insisted they were nearing their prize, but the young man was no longer so sure.

"Professor?" The boy called. He'd lost the old man and the snow was beginning to pour. The old man had probably stopped to take a note of something and was paying no attention to the oncoming storm. The professor would do that often. "Hey! Where are you, professor?"

No response. No response and the wind was blowing. He hear a wolf or maybe he was just imagining it. It could not be good to be out in the snow on a night like tonight. Especially not in Transylvania. The young man trekked on, finding the old man frozen nearly stiff in a snowbank. He managed to wrestle the old man to his feet and in the distance he thought he saw some light.

A village. They came upon a village with a small tenant house. Good, the young man thought. The promise of a warm bed and hot food filled him up almost as well as the real thing. They'd stay here for the night then continue on with their travels. A meal and a good rest would make them ready for their task.

They were vampire hunters after all, and Alfred intended to at least see some vampires.


	6. The Invitation to the Ball

Things had become very strange in their little tavern home.

In a fiendish way, Sarah relished in it. She relished in the excitement and the gossip and the fun. She relished in knowing she was responsible for it. Or, at least, partially responsible for it.

There had been whispers. The vampires had been seen more often. Count Von Krolock had been seen more often. Outside the tavern, the whispers said. Gazing up at Sarah's window, said another. Sarah thought that wonderfully exciting but her father did not. Some nights, her father had nailed her shut into her bedroom. Like he thought Sarah was going to walk away in some hypnotic spell. Yet he never bared her window, but still Sarah never saw her angel.

Three more days. Three more days until she was eighteen and everything would be different. Sarah would be immortal. Sarah would live in the castle. He'd kiss her. Well, she thought he might kiss her. She was not sure why she still wanted that so badly, but she thought it often. Sarah would drift off to sleep in her bath and imagine warm kisses all over her skin…

She sat in the bath now, humming her favorite song and running the sponge up her arm. She thought of what it would be like at the castle. Would there be servants like in the great houses in Constanta? Would Sarah be a countess? She pictured sweeping down the stairs in a beautiful ball gown. It was silver, no gold. The ball. Sarah was the guest of honor. There had been more whispers. Whispers about the upcoming ball. No one knew it was for her. No one knew it was all for Sarah.

A princess. She would be a princess. Her foolish and childish little dream. Sarah remembered playing princesses with Maria around the school yard. Maria had not spoken to Sarah since that night. Marie decided she and Sarah need not be friends anymore. Sarah didn't have any friends anymore and she was so lonely at times she thought she'd die from it.

The bathroom door opened. Papa, as usual. Fuming, as usual.

"Sarah!" He bellowed. It was then she noticed two men behind him. There were usually not two men behind him. "How many times do I- Get out!" Too flabbergasted to think better of it, Sarah nearly stood before her father shrieked at her to stay and slammed the door behind him. Two men. Two men, good God, they'd seen her naked. She almost wanted to laugh. Though more ashamed than amused, Sarah fled the bath, slid into her nightdress and back into her bedroom.

_My sponge,_ Sarah thought immediately. She rather liked her sponge. She'd bought it from a store in the city with Maria and Sarah adored it. It seemed the dream of living in the city was gone now. But Sarah would not let these men have her sponge. Not these strange men she did not know.

Sarah opened her door stepping into the bathroom and saw one of the men.

Well, not a man, a boy. A not particularly handsome but not particularly unhandsome boy. He was tall and gangly wearing clothes that looked a hair too short for him. His hair was light. Sarah so rarely saw boys with light color hair. He had to be from somewhere far away. Some place where men had light hair and clothes that were too short for them. And there was something about him that Sarah liked thought she did not know why. There was a light around him that she felt but couldn't really explain. His eyes were wide as he stared at her. He was holding her sponge.

The boy dropped it into the water and Sarah snatched it into her grip. He was still standing there. Then again, so was she.

Sarah moved back to her room and shut the door. The boy did the same.

This was, Sarah thought, one of the strangest things to have ever happened.

**OOO**

Von Krolock watched as Sarah lay upon her bed toying with the pores of her bath sponge.

It was not possible that she… he cursed himself, it was perfectly possible that she favored the boy. Sarah was young and affection at such an age was sudden and all consuming. It was not like the way he felt for her. The way he felt for her was slow and deeply burning. It seized him entirely and he did not quite know when it had consumed him whole.

Sarah would not be happy with a boy. Such affections burn brightly and quickly and then she would be left alone. This boy did not know her. This boy would not care for her.

No. No this was sentimental nonsense. Von Krolock cared not how the boy felt nor how Sarah felt. Sarah was his. Sarah was his and he had not waited twelve years for her to decide to belong to someone else. She was his, this strange creature, and he would not hesitate to take her. Not now. Not now when everything was different. Sarah was his. Damn the guilt and damn the morality. He had not considered either in months. She was his and he would not allow anyone else to have her. He had cursed her with him.

This was not love, he decided. For in love one must think of the better for the object of their affections. The loved one must be put above all else, above reason, and always given the better option. This was not love for Von Krolock would not let Sarah go. He could not allow Sarah this better life with this human boy. He could not allow it. Sarah was his. She'd been his for twelve years. No: she'd been his for centuries. And soon he'd have centuries of Sarah. He'd have her and her milk white skin and soft lips and starry eyes and kinky hair. She'd be in his arms and his home and his bed and Sarah would be no one else. This was not love. This was not as sweet as love.

Sarah stirred from her bed and moved to the window as though to look for him. Softly, he began to sing that song she liked so much. The sad folk song from hundreds of years ago. He'd always quite liked it, though he knew not why. It was a melancholy tune. It was a sensual tune.

She smiled to hear it. Sarah pressed her palm on the cool glass and wanted to see her angel. _I haven't forgotten you,_ she wanted to say but knew he would not hear her. Even with the boy, Sarah could not forget her angel. Sarah could never forget her angel. Her angel had been so kind to her. Her angel had loved and protected her far better than anyone had. He knew how to keep her safe without nailing her door shut.

But this boy…things would be less strange with this boy. He was human, Sarah was certain, and with a human boy things would be far different. It would be far more familiar. Could they be married, she and this boy? They'd be married and take over the inn for papa. She and the boy would have beautiful light haired children. Sarah would make sure to have many of them: it was so lonely to not have any siblings. They'd have a brood big enough to fill all the rooms. The silly boy with his silly smile would smile at her until they were old and grey.

It was familiar, this life. It was a life Sarah had seen hundreds of thousands of times. Love, have children, die. That was it. It seemed…easier than this fantasy she had created. And yet she could not let the fantasy go. It was childish, wasn't it? Vampires and ballrooms and princesses. Surely it would not be as grand as Sarah had imagined it. Surely she had imagined the whole thing. Did he really love her like she thought he did? Even that felt childish. Sarah knew what men often wanted and she knew how infrequently it was love.

_Sarah…_ She heard a whisper from the shadows. Was it real or was she being fanciful again? Perhaps it was time to stop being fanciful. Everyone said that the vampires were bad. Everyone. Everyone. Even Maria had come to believe them to be bad so why had Sarah not listened? Surely, they were bad and whatever was intended for her was bad?

This boy. Why had this boy suddenly switched everything for her? It seemed now that he made her see things in a new light. A new light that was crowned in sunshine instead of moon glow. This boy and his promise of love and life and children. Or maybe she was simply being fanciful again, but Sarah liked to think she was not. This boy filled her with an entirely new feeling.

Sarah, whispered the voice again. It seemed much nearer and much more insistent. Even a little bit angry. Could she give up her angel? Could she give up her ball gowns and parties?

She trotted to bed and wrapped her blanket into her arms. She pressed her nose into it and it smelt like her. It smelt not like her angel that never appeared to her. Was he truly real, this angel? Did he truly care for her?

Before she went to sleep, it felt almost like someone were stroking her hair. Sarah convinced herself she had imagined it.

**OOO**

Madame Chagal had whacked the professor over the head with a loaf of bread. Chagal was sleeping with a maid, or attempting to sleep with a maid. There were certainly vampires in this village and yet it seemed no one wished to talk about them. Sarah was the most beautiful girl Alfred had ever seen.

Alfred scribbled all of his findings into his little warn notebook but ended up tearing out the page. The professor would not care about such arbitrary things. They needed real proof. Real answers and no one here was keen to give them away. Sarah might. If Alfred could just talk to her, maybe Sarah would tell him about the vampires. She had to be so frightened. How could someone raise children in a bleak place like this? In a place teeming with monsters? Sarah was so beautiful. It could not be safe for someone so beautiful to be in a village full of vampires.

There had to be some kind of a castle. According to Professor Abronsius's notes, there was a very old, very powerful vampire nearby. There were many rumors of a castle infested with them that was meant to be not far away. A castle, of course, they were having no luck in finding. There were theories that such a place could be hidden by the glamour of the vampires. Vampires, like witches, could manipulate the mind to do many things. If this vampire were as old as they thought, he would be able to do fantastical things indeed.

It was morning now and they were safe from whatever dangers the night would bring. Alfred hadn't slept at all, but for fear or for thinking of Sarah he was not quite sure. She was so beautiful. He had never seen a girl so beautiful. Her eyes shined like stars and her brief smile had possessed his mind. He sat out in the cold with the professor, but his eyes kept looking towards Sarah's window. Was she awake? What was she doing?

But the professor insisted there were things to observe so Alfred followed him about dutifully. In the moment they were gone, a strange and hunkered man appeared. He muttered something as he looked at Sarah's window and Alfred felt his stomach turn. Did this thing mean to hurt her? After discussing something with Chagal, the thing was gone into the trees.

"Who is that man?" The professor demanded in his usual way. It made Alfred nearly die from embarrassment. In his pursuit for knowledge, the professor would froget every social grace. "That hunchback: who is he?"

"A cripple," Chagal said with an easy smile. "We provide him things he cannot get for himself. Poor soul." He clicked his tongue and went back to this work, his wife eying him eerily. Things were very strange here indeed. There was quite clearly some very massive thing they had all grown adept at ignoring.

The professor whispered, "A cripple. Hmm! I wonder if he knows of the castle."

"Why would he know of the castle, professor?"

The old man sniggered, "Why would he know of the castle? Honestly boy, where would you be without me?" He pulled Alfred close as though the others were listening (which he didn't doubt). "No doubt he is their servant. Many creatures of the night will keep such in their employment."

"Why, professor?"

"Why?" The professor groaned. "Because, such persons have little hope in life. The hope of immortality is enough to get their servitude free of charge. Hmm!"

Alfred supposed that made sense and they didn't talk much more as they sat watching the others do their chores. He almost expected Sarah to come out and assist but she never did. The mother must've noticed how Alfred's eyes kept darting to the window for she pulled him near and spoke to him.

"Sarah would be joining us for chores, but it's nearly her birthday, you know?" Rebecca said cheerily as she plucked feathers from a goose. Why these people wanted to do chores in this snow was beyond him. Perhaps it was always like cold so far east.

Alfred just smiled and nodded, afraid to say something that might make her cross.

"She's very sweet, our Sarah," Rebecca pressed again. "About to be eighteen."

"An important birthday," Alfred noted and it seemed to upset the woman. Eighteen. Alfred was one and twenty but very usually didn't feel so in his place of servitude. He decided to change the subject. "Do you know any places where the professor and I could go and work on our studies, Madame Chagal? A library perhaps. Or a castle…"

"There is no castle," Rebecca said as the others had the previous night. Alfred's tongue felt like cotton. "There is a library in the city, but the city is far. Would you not rather just have a nice warm meal here? You needn't go out in such weather-"

"Well, the professor and I made this trip to study. We've heard of a castle nearby and would very much like to see it."

"Do not bring such ill omen upon our house, young man." The woman stopped very abruptly, her voice low and her eyes sharp. "We want none of that here."

A voice burst though, "None of what, Madame Chagal?" It seemed the professor had been listening it. He traipsed over and raised his squeaky voice. "We've come to help you, but we can't unless you tell us what is going on! What and where and why and how and who, Madame? Who is this person you all fear?"

No one spoke. Alfred's chest felt like it had scorpions in it.

The professor relented, "Fine then! Ignore your problems and live with your infestation. Come, boy! There's a library in the city and there is no answer that cannot be answered inside of it!"

Alfred groaned. He would never tell the professor, but the promise of a hot meal did sound far more amusing than a library ever could be.

**OOO**

Sarah had expected the boy at dinner, but he was not there. They'd gone into the city, her mama informed her, and probably wouldn't be back until late. That disappointed Sarah and she didn't know quite why, but her mind was set on other things. Koukol, the hunchback, had spoken to her this afternoon and the words had perplexed her. Tonight. She would come to the castle tonight. Which was peculiar, for it was not yet her birthday. Was he not to wait until her birthday?

Tonight. Sarah would go tonight. It seemed so sudden for whatever reason. And she wouldn't see the boy again. Sarah wasn't sure why that upset her, for she didn't even know him. Tonight. Sarah could hardly focus for the anticipation. She pictured a beautiful ballroom and beautiful dresses and a beautiful her. Tonight.

Sarah would not see that boy again. Why did she keep thinking about him?

At dinner, Sarah hardly ate even a bite. Tonight. Would he make her into a vampire tonight? Sarah couldn't imagine vampires ate anything so she should eat. This may be her last meal. Or maybe it was all some horrific trick and he was going to kill her. No, no Sarah could not think that true. If he'd wanted to kill her, wouldn't he have done it already? Why prolong it? Tonight. Sarah barely ate two bites of her stew.

The boy. Sarah kept thinking about the strange boy. He was handsome, she imagined. He was golden haired and for some reason Sarah thought he must be very nice. Yes, it seemed he would be very nice. Thinking about being with him did not give her all these knots in her stomach. As she looked at the faces of her parents, Sarah knew that her parents wouldn't mind if Sarah fell in love with the boy. They would certainly mind if she went to the castle. It would break their hearts if she went to the castle. Could Sarah break their hearts?

_They've broken my heart a hundred times,_ thought a voice in her mind. _I don't care if I break theirs._

Her parents seemed alarmed when Sarah announced what she was doing, but she went up to her room regardless. It was still rather early. Certainly a vampire would not be out this early. God, what was she meant to do? She couldn't just lie around, she'd go absolutely mad. Was she meant to pack? Sarah supposed none of her things were good enough for a castle. The things he'd given her maybe…

Sarah heard a noise from the bathroom. The boy. The boy was back. It excited her and Sarah didn't care that she didn't know why. A bath, that's what she should have. Yes, she'd smell so wonderful and look so beautiful after a bath. It would take her mind from everything and everyone. Sarah wouldn't mind everything so much if she were in a bath.

"Excuse me?" Sarah opened the unbarred door and the boy nearly jumped from his skin. Sarah laughed to herself. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?"

"N-no," the boy stammered. His eyes were so wide. Sarah had never seen a boy with such wide eyes. It made her feel bashful. "Not at all, miss."

She blushed, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to… Never mind it. Enjoy your bath." As she gestured, she dropped her sponge right onto the ground. The boy went to grab it as she did, and they ended up nearly touching hands and sitting very closely. Sarah wondered suddenly what it would be like to kiss this boy…

"Thank you," Sarah stood suddenly. Words poured out her before she could think about them. "You really are very nice." And he looked at her like she was insane. "Forgive me. I don't meet many people." Absentmindedly, she gestured to the bared door.

The boy hesitated, "Does your father always lock you in your room like that?"

She shrugged, "I'm nearly eighteen and he treats me like I'm a baby."

"How do you stand it?"

"I have my escapes," Sarah said bashfully. Suddenly, she thought perhaps she'd said too much. Her eyes trailed to the sponge that was still in his grasp and quite immediately he offered it to her. "Keep it." She decided. "It's fine; I have two."

The boy studied it, "Beautiful… I mean, the sponge is beautiful. Uh…" He was stammering nonsensically and it made her laugh. He did like her, this boy. Sarah had thought so. It made her happy to know so. "Can I give you anything?"

"Anything?" She repeated. Her eyes moved to the tub full of hot water and bubbles and she felt a yearning in her chest. She did like this boy and maybe in a different world they could… But Sarah was going to the castle tonight. She needed to prepare for the castle. "There is something."

"Yes?" The boy pressed.

"It's just…something I like to do to relax, you know. Most girls do."

That seemed to alarm the boy and Sarah was not quite sure why.

"Do you mean…" The boy stammered again. "But your father?"

Sarah scoffed, "Well, he gets upset about everything, but I can do what I want. Do will you help me?"

"Help you?"

"Yes," Sarah repeated. He seemed to not be a very smart boy, come to it. "You're so nice; please, let me have it."

"Well," the boy was flushing and Sarah suddenly realized what he was thinking. Oh, it made her want to laugh. "I suppose so." Oh, she felt awful, but more so found it delightfully humorous. Sarah had never been much of a coquette before, and it was proving quite fun to be one.

Sarah smirked, "Good." And she decided to tease him a bit more for he flushed so wonderfully well. "You need to get out while I undress." Sarah pushed him from the room and it was like he were made of feathers. "Thank you for letting me use your bath. It's really very kind of you." With a brief kiss on his cheek, Sarah pushed him from the room and locked the door.

A laugh burst from her, a deep laugh, as she undressed to get into the water. Maybe it was a bit mean but it had been absolutely hilarious. Sarah hadn't had a good laugh in… She could not remember the last time she laughed. The thought was a bit sobering, so Sarah let it slip from her mind as she slid into the hot water and foam. Somewhere far away, it sounded like someone was singing that ballad she loved so much. Sarah hummed along, letting the soap slide over her skin.

She heard the music, but thought nothing of it. Sarah heard the song so often in her own mind that she hardly recognized when she was hearing it aloud. It soothed her, this melody, in a way it had not before. Like a lullaby, the song passed over her and made everything feel different. Yes, the air felt alive, didn't it? Sarah couldn't name what had happened when the boy left, but suddenly everything was different.

It had just been a moment. Just a moment before Sarah had made the boy leave her to her bath. She felt slightly wrong about that, but it had been fun. Now she was alone. Now she could be free and...

Sarah nearly screamed. There was a face at the window. Her angel. Her angel's face looking down upon her. It could not have been real. Sarah did not believe it was real. Her skin felt like fire as he stared at her.

"Do not be frightened," she heard, though she should not have been able to hear him. "Do not be frightened of me."

_My angel,_ Sarah's heart was soaring from her chest.

"I come for you, my darling. I've waited so long for you."

Then suddenly, he was in front of her. He was in her bathroom and he was standing there like some dream come to reality. He had come for her. Her angel had come for her. Two days early, even, but Sarah didn't care. He was real it. It frightened her how real he was. She could reach out and touch him, but found she could not move.

"Or, you could stay here, couldn't you?" He spoke strangely as he gazed at her as though she weren't stark naked but she very fiercely knew she was. "Stay here and live a life like all the others. Boring and short and bitter. Would that be enough for you, my princess?"

Sarah shook her head no. No, it would never be enough. Damn whatever foolish thoughts she had the night before. Damn whatever strange dreams she had conjured. Sarah didn't want them. Sarah wanted him.

"It would never be, would it?"

Sarah shook her head fiercely.

"I've come to invite you, dearest one, invite you far away from here." He moved nearer and Sarah sat up straighter. She didn't care that she was naked. She didn't care at all. Sarah moved up onto her knees to be closer to him. His index finger slid beneath her chin, guiding her gaze to his. His eyes were as red as beautiful roses. "A midnight ball at the caste, wouldn't you like that? Everything you've ever wanted. Eternity. Night after night and never growing older. Don't you want that?"

Sarah nodded again, his long nail pressing into her skin. His hand brushed her face before pulling away suddenly. It seemed he'd grown possessed with something as he stared at her. Perhaps Sarah had been too. Suddenly too, his hand grasped the back of her head and held her a bit too tightly.

"You'll come with me?" He asked strangely.

"Yes," Sarah said, aloud this time.

"You will be mine?"

"Yes."

He moved closer and Sarah saw the fangs that protruded from his gums but she didn't care. For whatever reason, the thought of him doing that was infinitely exciting and Sarah could hardly breathe for the anticipation. Perhaps it was earlier than she had expected, but she would be his. Yes, she would be his and it would be so lovely to be his. He was so magical and she wanted to be with him. Sarah wanted him like nothing else in the world. And he was an inch from her, just a breath from her when the door opened and Sarah's world shattered. They were screaming. The boy and the old man were yelling things Sarah couldn't hear and her mother had come in. Her angel was gone. Sarah's moment was ruined. He was gone and would forget about her and everything was ruined...

"Sarah!" Her father pulled her from the tub while her mother pushed the robe back onto her arms. "What have you done? _What have you done?"_

"Wha-?" Sarah couldn't speak in all the excitement. The boy and the old man were darting about, the boy clutching a crucifix and a bundle of garlic in his hands. "The smell of decay!" The old man bellowed like he were mad. "He was here, boy! He was here! You must tell us who that was!" The old man grabbed Sarah's arm but her father gruffly pushed him away. Before Sarah could catch another look she was pushed into her room and slammed against the bed. It struck into her chest like a great blow.

Her mother was muttering things in some high pitched voice Sarah could not understand. Everything seemed to be moving in stop time since her angel had left her. He had been there. He had held her and promised her everything. Would he forget now? Was her angel gone for good? Sarah couldn't breathe. She couldn't even move. Her father slapped her across the face and she barely felt it. Her mother scolded him but did nothing to stop him from doing it a second time. Sarah didn't care. Her angel was gone. Everything was ruined. Everything was broken.

Her father grabbed her, "What did you say to him? What did you _do_?"

"I didn't do anything," Sarah whimpered. "I just wanted to have a bath. I didn't do anything, papa. I promise."

"Don't lie to me, girl!" He said and then struck her again. Sarah did not know what she ever could have done to warrant such treatment. Why was he so upset? Everything, Sarah thought. Everything. He's upset for taking me to the castle when I was six. He's upset about the bear and about the snow and about the castle and the beach and the attack and the rumors. I'm the vampire girl. I'm the vampire girl and he doesn't want the vampire girl as his daughter.

Sarah felt tears on her face. "I'll never bathe again, papa. I promise. Please, papa. I didn't do anything! Please!"

"Yoine!" Rebecca stopped her husband before the fourth slap could be struck. It seemed the three before had been warranted in her mind. "Perhaps Sarah did not-"

"I want that beast nowhere near her!" Her father bellowed but this time it was not towards her. The he looked at her like he wanted to say something. Sarah thought he might apologize. Instead, he grabbed her mother and stormed from the room. Stormed from the room as though she were some dog meant to be beaten and then cast away. Sarah cried. No, not cried: sobbed. It seemed all she did lately was cry or sob and frankly she despised it.

Sarah waited as she cried and no one came to her window and no one sang to her and no one came to her rescue. Her angel, it seemed, had flown back off to heaven and left her alone and in hell. That's what this was, wasn't it? This was hell. A hell where they did not love her and did not want her and would beat her like a dog and not apologize for it. They were mad at her for tempting a vampire she'd never truly intended to tempt. Sarah could not live her any longer.

Sarah could not live here any longer.

I'm going to run away, she thought suddenly. It was strange that she had not considered it before. Run away. It was so simple. Yes, she'd go far away. So far away that no one would ever find her again.

She went to her floorboard and pulled it away. She was not expecting was new items within it.

A red rose. Bright, new, and glorious the blossom was. Beneath it was her blanket and beneath that were all her beautiful jewels tied in a handkerchief. Like for a journey. Like for a runaway.

He wanted her. Her angel wanted her to join him. He did. He'd said so. He'd held her and said that she was his and would dance with him at the ball. The ball. Yes, it was for her. It was all for her. It was all for her to run away to and all she had to do was go. Just go and then she'd get it all. Everything she'd ever wanted would be hers and soon. Her angel wanted her. She had to go to him

Sarah grabbed the items: the jewelry, the blanket. She covered the floorboard one last time. Sarah took her coat from the closet and shoved the handkerchief into the pocket. In the red blanket she wrapped up the red rose. She was running away. It filled her with a fiendish desire to think it.

Her angel wanted her, and Sarah was not going to be late.


	7. Eclipse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm so bad at updating this from FF. I will try to get better! Hope you are enjoying it!

The moon shone brightly on the fallen snow and Alfred wanted to talk to her.

Sarah could not have… Well, he supposed she could have. He didn't even know her, not truly. One brief moment of speaking and he thinking she was… Never mind that part either. Alfred felt sick when he thought of that monster in the bathroom with her. How had he gotten in? How had Alfred not seen him? Why had not Sarah screamed in horror at the face of that thing? For that thing was hideous. Absolutely distorted. Alfred had never seen a thing so ugly.

And yet Sarah had not screamed. She had been hypnotized, he supposed. These creatures could do such a thing. It was good Alfred had seen. He'd thought he'd heard a noise and went to look and there the great black bat had been. He loomed over Sarah like a cloud made of dark fabric. His face had been pale and marble and sunken in in a way human faces were not. His eyes had been red as fresh blood. Yes, Sarah should've screamed so she must've been hypnotized.

Now Alfred stood in the cold night outside her window wanting desperately for her to come to it. After he'd called for help, her father had beat her and locked her in her room again. The professor had demanded to speak with her, claiming they were on the brink of a 'scientific discovery' but of course his demand had been denied. No one was to see Sarah and Sarah was to see no one. Alfred had the strangest feeling that this had happened before. The thought of it made him feel even more ill.

'Professor?' Alfred had asked while they'd scoured the bathroom for some sort of clue. Nothing was left behind, of course. A strange smell and nothing more. 'Will he hurt Sarah?'

'He seems to have given her a good beating.' The professor said.

Alfred breathed, 'No, not the father: the vampire. Will he hurt Sarah?'

'It depends upon what you mean by hurt, boy,' the professor snapped. 'Vampires are corruptors, villains! He could drain her dry or corrupt her to be like him.' He stood, obviously ticked he'd found no evidence. 'Now, get up, boy! We've work to do!"

Work, it seemed, meant reading so Alfred snuck out to wait beneath Sarah's window. Corrupt her. Who would want to corrupt something so beautiful? Who would want to turn something as perfect into something as hideous as that thing that had been lurking in the bathroom? No doubt this vampire had thousands of companions; he could leave Sarah alone. He could leave Sarah for Alfred.

Alfred heard a footstep behind him and felt his whole body turn to stone. The monster. The monster had returned.

"What are you doing out here?"

It was no monster, but an angel. Sarah stood behind him looking like a goddess in the snow. He turned and saw her standing behind him, a red bundle in her arms and a blue coat covering her body. Her eyes, they seemed her red and swollen from crying and her lips parted form sobs. On her cheek was a bright red mark from where her father had slapped her. Alfred could not believe anyone could harm something as sweet as Sarah.

"I, er…" Alfred stammered, thinking that he couldn't quite tell her he'd been waiting outside her window to see her. "I was checking the area. Making sure you were safe."

"I'm fine," Sarah bit. She sniffed and took a step back.

Alfred studied her, "What are you doing?" For a long moment, Sarah said nothing and he saw a million thoughts pass over her wide eyes. Eventually, she trusted him.

"I'm running away," Sarah gestured to her pack. "At least, going away. I just…I just can't stay here anymore. I can't. They…. They aren't good to me, you know? And I… I just can't stay here. Not anymore."

"Where will you go?" Alfred stepped forward and wanted to offer to go with her. Yes, he'd go with her if she asked. He'd go anywhere.

From somewhere far off, a wolf howled and it chilled his bones suddenly. The moon was bright and full above them, romantic in a way. Sarah did look so lovely with the moon shining down on her. Alfred thought it would be wonderful to look at her every day with the moon shining down on her. Yet she looked so sad. He wondered if it was often that her parents were like this. She had said so. He imagined so. Alfred would never be so cruel to her. Alfred would never strike her or scold her. If she offered, he would go.

Sarah shrugged, "Away. I don't know. But I must go now before they realize I'm gone."

"Wait!" Alfred said before she even took a step away. Sarah leaving. He could not fathom Sarah leaving. It was not possible that she… The vampire. The vampire from the bathroom. Sarah could not be going to him, could she? "It's dangerous. You should wait until the morning."

"I'll die if I stay another night here," Sarah said with vitriol. "I must go now."

"I'll go with you!" Alfred offered suddenly. "It's dangerous to go out at night. I can escort you wherever you want to go. I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"You really are so nice," Sarah responded after a beat. It seemed her cheeks had flushed but perhaps it was just the reflection of her red bundle. "But I can't ask you to do that for me."

"It's no problem," he insisted. Alfred stepped forward wanting to hold her hands but thinking she might not want that. "I'll go with you."

"Will you?" She asked in a teasing way.

Alfred nodded fervently, "Yes, yes! Anywhere you want to go, we'll go! I've wanted to travel the world for my whole life."

She laughed, "Me too. The world is so…free."

"Yes," Alfred agreed. He almost took her hands. Almost. "We could go anywhere you wished. Anywhere at all!"

"I…" Sarah stammered and for a moment he thought she would agree. Alfred was waiting for her to agree. He pictured it all. They'd go off together. They'd be happy together. They'd travel the world and be in love and be married and have a family…. "I forgot my sponge!"

Alfred blinked, "Your sponge?"

"Yes, ah…" It seemed to greatly upset her. "Will you go fetch it for me? I can't be without my sponge."

"All…all right," Alfred agreed. It seemed to make her much happier. She smiled at him her twinkling smile again and touched him arm kindly. They were going to run away together, they were going to do it! Alfred just needed her sponge and everything would be good. Yet when he went to find it, Alfred found nothing. It was not in him room nor the bathroom nor anywhere at all. It was fine, he told himself. It wouldn't matter. When they began their travels, he'd buy her a new sponge. He would buy her a thousand sponges.

After his searching, Alfred went back outside and found the yard empty. Empty. Sarah was gone. Alfred cried her name and Sarah was gone. She was not in the trees and not by the shed and absolutely nowhere.

Panic seized him: He'd taken her. That monster had taken her. Or she'd left Alfred. Or it had all been a trick and she'd left Alfred.

And it was all Alfred's fault.

"Sarah!" Cried another voice from behind him. Chagal appeared at the door with a crazed look in his eye. His wife soon followed, her look equally perplexed. "God, no! Sarah!" He ran about like a maniac, but Alfred could no longer move. Sarah was gone. Taken or left, he no longer knew. He no longer knew what to believe.

She had been here. Just moments ago, Sarah was here. They were going to run away together. They were going to-

Chagal cried, "He's taken her! My daughter, my only child. My girl! My Sarah!" He held up little black shoes. Sarah's black shoes. Why had she left her shoes? Where had she gone? Alfred had a thousand questions and no answers in sight. Sarah gone. Sarah was gone.

In a blur of declarations and cries, Chagal ran into the snow for his daughter while his wife cried a cry to rival that of the wind. Alfred could say nothing. Alfred could think nothing. Sarah was gone. Sarah was taken. Sarah had vanished and it was all his fault. Why had he left? He should've stayed with her. Sarah had been in a dangerous spot and he should've stayed with her. That monster had taken her because Alfred had left her alone.

Sarah was going to be hurt, and it was all Alfred's fault.

**OOO**

"Master, there's a girl on the grounds."

"A girl?" He inquired immediately, something sparking inside of him. Sarah. It had to be Sarah. He'd never imagined she'd come to him. He'd aimed to come for her... At some point, he would've come for her. He should've taken her this night as he'd intended to but for whatever reason...

Von Krolock stood, walking to his window. The snow fell in sheets upon the ground and he could not think that such a little thing as Sarah could've survived such a trek. Yes, surely she had not come all this way for him. The girl on the grounds could not be her, and yet he glimpsed her through the snow. How had she born this? How had such a child born this?

"Can I have her, master?" Asked the creature standing in the room with him. Von Krolock had forgotten he was there. "I haven't hunted in days." Insolent, starving thing to even consider requesting such a thing. And perhaps Von Krolock's reaction was untoward, but he grabbed the man by his throat and bared his fangs in intimidation.

Von Krolock sneered, "Touch her and I will gut you from nose to navel. The girl is mine. Is that clear?" He released the man, not caring about the quizzical look of his face or the stench of his fear. Sarah. Sarah had come to him. Sarah would be his. "Now get out. If I find you or any other has touched a hair upon her head, you'll face pain far worse than any you've ever known."

The man bowed and left the room, the stink of his fear staying behind. Von Krolock cared not for his hungry subjects and insolent courtiers: Sarah was here. Sarah was his.

The thought propelled him as he descended the staircase and opened the grand doors. Sarah was there, frozen and shaking but she smiled to see him. Sarah was here. She stumbled into the castle, her hair frozen and wet, and the sound of her chattering echoed all around. Sarah, his Sarah. Von Krolock reached a hand for her and she took it with trepidation. She looked at him like he were made of something magical.

That was when the girl swooned.

He caught her. She was in his arms again and this time she would not leave them. Sarah was here. Sarah had chosen to be here. Von Krolock shut the door, clicked the lock, and carried the girl in his arms up the stairway. He'd find her a room and food and something not so icy to wear. Even so, she was so warm in his arms. Her head fell back and her neck was long and porcelain and he wanted to... No. Not yet. The time was not right yet.

There was a room, a room he'd had made up for her. He stepped in and set her on the bed, her iced clothes crinkling on the surface. Sarah was here. She was right here in front of him and there was no one to see or to interfere. He touched her cool cheek softly but the girl did not stir. She was so little. She was so young. Perhaps he should not... He dismissed the thought. Sarah was here. Sarah wanted him.

Sarah would not leave.

**OOO**

The room she awoke in was unfamiliar, but Sarah quickly remembered to where she had traveled. The castle. This was the castle from her dreams and her fancies. This was the place she'd longed to be for so many years. The castle. Sarah was in the castle.

How long had she been resting? The bed was so lush and soft that Sarah did not want to leave from it. The room was more beautiful than any she had ever seen. She wondered if it were still dark but the windows were shut up so she could not see the outside. She imagined it was still night; it had only just been growing dark when she left. The nights were so long in winter, especially in a winter as bad as this one.

There was a bowl on the table. Soup and a piece of bread, both still warm. She had not been asleep that long. That was good. Though she wasn't sure how she was expected to eat now. Sarah was in the castle. Sarah was in this place she'd dreamed of for nearly her whole life, how did they expect her to eat? Her stomach rumbled to spite her, but she felt she'd hurl if she ate even a crumb.

On the vanity chair was laid another nightgown. A white nightdress, similar to the one she already wore but certainly not as cold. Her clothes hung against her, wet and chilly, and Sarah yearned to wear something that was not so. Easily, she slipped from her belongings and put on the other nightdress. It was far finer than any she owned and made of far sweeter material. Maybe she could eat. Sarah was so hungry.

The soup and bread were finished in what felt like a moment. What was she meant to do now? Would someone come for her? Would he come for her? Sarah remembered that look on his face when she'd come in the door. Her angel had been elated to see her come to him. There had been a look in his eyes Sarah couldn't name but knew all too well. Where was he now? What was she meant to do?

She sat for several minutes feeling quite idiotic, and then decided to go exploring.

**OOO**

Alfred wanted out of this hell of a place.

The castle had looked barbaric and grotesque from its perch atop the mountain. Though it had seemed a behemoth from the outside, it seemed even more so from the inside. Alfred supposed you could fit hundreds of castles into this one it was so vast. The hunchback had led then down a labyrinth of paths Alfred was sure he could not repeat until they reached their assigned bedroom. A disgusting bedroom that was not cleaned and filled with dust. Did Sarah have such a room as well? Did these creatures have such little regard for humans?

"We have to find Sarah." Alfred proclaimed when he and the professor were alone in the room. One bed. They had been given one bed. Alfred took it as an insult, which it certainly was. This Count Von Krolock was domineering and pretentious and Alfred despised him. What a strange looking man. A vampire, he had to be. Who else could it be but this strange looking man?

This had been the creature from Sarah's bathroom. It had been, yet the professor was not convinced. They needed "evidence". They needed proof.

Alfred thought all the proof they needed was this strange looking man. Alfred could not forget this man. Alfred could not understand how Sarah had not retracted in horror at the first sight of him. He was tall, too tall, and his strange edges and lines to his face. He did not look old and at the same time was the most ancient thing Alfred had ever seen. He could hardly describe it, which was not good for surely the professor would make him take notes upon it. To be frank, Alfred cared not for notes or studying anymore. He cared not for evidence and science, he cared for freeing Sarah from this awful place.

Alfred remembered how depraved Sarah's father had become. Was Sarah that way now? Were they already too late?

Sarah was caught in some sort of spell, surely. It was the only explanation as to why she had come here in the first place. Even the man himself had said he was a magician, a hypnotist, and that is what he had done to Sarah. He'd tricked her and was now keeping her captive. Alfred clutched her sponge to him, pressing it against his nose and trying to catch the scent of her. All he could smell was soap. He hoped she was alive.

"'A night bird'," the professor mused to himself. He walked around their awful bedroom, perfectly enchanted, while Alfred was crumbling apart on the inside. How dare the professor be so charmed by the place? How dare he not see the danger? Where was Sarah? Alfred could never find her blindly. Surely the castle was crawling with these creatures. The son. Ugh, the son. Alfred did not like any of this at all. They had to find Sarah. They had to save her and then leave.

"He nearly gives himself away, boy!" The professor exclaimed gleefully. "We're here! I can't believe we're actually here! I gander few humans have been here at all, boy. The castle is coated in powerful magic. Only those who he wants to see it can enter."

Alfred wondered why the beast had let them through them. Probably to make a sport of us.

"She's in the castle," Alfred said. He lifted up his sponge and then clasped it to himself again. "Sarah is. I know it. He said that she was. We have to find her."

"He could be tricking you, boy," the professor said without even looking. "Using the thought of this girl to get you to wander about at night. It would be unwise. It would be best to stay in this room until morning when they are weaker."

"Until morning!" Alfred bellowed. No, no. They could not wait that long. It was hours until morning, ages until morning. The nights were so long this far east. Anything could happen in these hours. That monster would take Sarah. That monster would do something awful to her. It turned Alfred's stomach to imagine it. How that monster had looked at Sarah in the bathtub… Oh, he was a vile thing to look at her like that. Sarah was a lady. A beautiful girl and that monster looked at her like he owned her...

"N-no," Alfred stammered. "We cannot-"

"We must, Alfred." The professor never used Alfred's name unless he was being exceptionally stupid or the professor was being exceptionally caring. He was not sure which was applying at the moment. "I heard talk at the tenant house that there is to be a ball at this castle tomorrow night. It's some strange, annual thing for these creatures. We must trust that if anything is intended for this girl, it will not occur before tomorrow night." The professor looked at him. "We must trust."

With a deep sigh, Alfred nodded.

It was going to be a most excruciating night.

**OOO**

Sarah had never been in a place so beautiful.

The castle was larger than it had appeared from the outside, and every inch of it was lavish and lush. Sarah wanted to stay in it forever and ever. No more stupid house that always smelt or garlic, ale, and sweat. This was place was clean and grand. Sarah felt like a princess to just be inside of it. They had welcomed her inside of it.

It was very dark in this castle. Candles lit parts of it, but there were not enough candles in the world to light it all. It was so vast. Sarah could not believe how vast it was. The ceilings in some parts seemed to reach right into the stars and far past them. The walls had been covered in tapestries or portraits. They were so old yet they did not crumble. The whole castle was covered in magic, just as Sarah thought it would be. For he was magic, her angel, so the castle was magic as well.

The air was cool as she explored and she felt eyes upon her as she wandered about. These eyes didn't frighten her though. She did not know why. Nothing about this castle was frightening to her. As she wandered, Sarah found many rooms but nary another soul. She saw naught her angel nor any of the others. For there were others, she was certain. She could feel them all around her but saw them naught. It was as though they were frightened of her. Sarah thought that very silly.

She liked this exploration. For all of her life, such things were forbidden from her. Such things were forbidden because Sarah was marked as cursed the moment a vampire had smiled at her. Sarah was meant to be locked in a tower because she was different and to be different was to be dangerous. She had been so lonely for so very long. She just wanted…she just wanted to not feel so lonely. She continued on in her journey.

She found a library. She found a music room and a sporting room and several studies. Sarah did not find the door or how she had come in. Her angel had tucked her away in some far off room that Sarah was not even sure she would remember how to get back to. Finally, she found the ballroom. So badly had she wanted to find the ballroom. It was more beautiful than she had ever imagined. A great smile grew as she studied it.

Ornate beams reached up the heavens and were lined in silver and gold. Portraits lined every bit of the walls and the walls themselves were a deep red. Even the floor was made from spotless tile. A staircase bigger than any she had ever seen stretched up before her and at the top was…

Sarah froze. It was him.

_"Sarah…Sarah…Sarah…"_ Whispered voice from behind her. Sarah turned suddenly, expecting others to be there but saw nothing. _"Be prepared, Sarah…"_ It whispered from her side but again she was alone. _"Precious Starchild…"_ Said another voice but still no one was near. _"Prophesized…"_ Began another and soon the ballroom was a cacophony of unseen voices. _"Sarah!" "Starchild!" "Prophesized!" "Be prepared!" "Run!" "Starchild!' "Different!" "Chosen!" "Sarah!" "Run!" "Different!" "Chosen!" "Different!"_

"Sarah."

A clear voice. A living voice. Sarah turned to see her angel had come much closer to her. There were tears in her eyes; those voices had scared her. They'd whispered those things she didn't want anyone to whisper. Different. Something was strange about her.

Her angel brought his hand to her face and wiped her tear away with his thumb. He had such strange hands. Everything about him was wonderfully bizarre.

"Do not be frightened," he said to her.

"I'm not." Sarah responded, but she was certain she did not sound very convincing.

"I wish you to be very happy here," he said. Sarah smiled as he spoke. Everything felt odd now: warm and sort of out of focus. The fear was gone so Sarah didn't mind it. And she was here with him, so she did not mind it. "My beautiful Sarah."

She smiled brighter as he led her off. Sarah did not know where they were going, but it had grown darker now. Some knot was forming in her stomach: worry. Fear. Something about him was scaring her but…no, Sarah wasn't scared of him. He was her angel. He wanted to make her happy.

"I want to make you exquisitely happy." He said as though he had read her thoughts. Happy. No one had really tried to make Sarah happy before. "My Sarah. My own."

They were in some different room now. Everything was very strange to Sarah now. Everything was a swirl of beautiful warm colors at the pinpoint of him. He led her gently and she followed serenely, wanting nothing more than to be near to him. He let go of her hand and cast her off into the room. It was the room she'd been in earlier, her room, yet different. She could not explain how it was different. One thing was for certain different: there was a red dress on a stand before her.

Her eyes widened as she stumbled forward to touch it. Sarah had never seen such a beautiful gown in all of her life. She touched it lovingly and found it all the more ornate as she studied it. She'd never dreamed she'd own such a gown, let alone touch one.

"It's beautiful," Sarah breathed. She did not even know if he was still there. In fact, Sarah did not even know if he had really been there at all. Everything felt like a dream. A wonderful, wonderful dream. He touched her shoulder and they were flying again. Well, no, they weren't flying. Sarah did not even know if they had moved at all. It seemed to be her room and yet everything was very dark now. There was only him. Sarah so wanted him. Did he want her? Sarah wanted to be made like him right now. She did not want to wait. She'd become a vampire now, go to the ball tomorrow, and she'd be the most beautiful vampire of them all…

Sarah had pulled off her red shawl. She was not even sure when she had done that. It seemed, for a moment, that he was going to do it. He came very close to her like he was going to do it.

"Not yet, my precious." Her angel said after several long moments. He touched her face again and Sarah felt like she was dreaming. Wasn't she dreaming? What did anything matter then, if she were dreaming? Sarah could want him and kiss him if she were dreaming. How badly she wanted him. It felt like aching how she wanted him. He took her in his arms and Sarah felt enchanted.

"Tomorrow." His voice was as low and as soft as a lullaby as she rested against him. "Tomorrow at the ball you and I will be together. We will be one. We must wait. We must not forget ourselves. It shall be all the better if we wait."

Sarah nodded for whatever reason, wanting to rest there in his arms for eternity. Yes, she would be so happy here. Here was far better than home or the city or anywhere else in the world. Why were people so frightened of him? He was good and kind and…warm. He wrapped her in his shadow and everything felt as it should be. Nothing in her felt like it were missing or broken or wrong.

"You are a wonder," he said almost to himself. Sarah was in love with him. Was he in love with her? At least she thought she was in love with him. Yet this felt like something different than love. Sarah was not quite sure what.

He pulled away and looked at her again, and again she wondered if he was going to do it regardless. Or would he take her to bed? Were they even still in her bedroom? Sarah knew not where they were or what was going on. Nothing felt real; everything was a dream. That knot come back into her stomach. What was he doing to her? Was this that hypnosis she had been told about? Everything was so strange.

He kissed her. Well no, not kiss. Kiss seemed too sweet a word. It was not a sweet kiss like the one from Samuel had been. Samuel's kiss had been soft and light and smelt of cinnamon. His hands had been light upon her skin and his lips warm and gentle. This kiss was very different. Her angel's mouth was hard and determined against hers and Sarah knew not how to kiss in such a way. It seemed a very grown up way to kiss someone. No one had kissed her in such a way. It was like he meant to inhale her and leave a shell of her left behind. It was passionate in ways Sarah had not imagined in her many fantasies. She did not know how to kiss this way. But she wanted to try.

Her angel tried to pull away from her but Sarah grasped him back and held him there. The strange dream layer was fading away and Sarah knew where they were. Would he take her to bed? Sarah had the sudden notion that it wouldn't frighten her that much if he did. Did he love her? It felt like he loved her.

Her angel stopped, "We must not lose our heads."

Sarah was unsure if he was saying that to her or himself. He kissed her brow.

"Tomorrow, dear one." He spoke. Her angel took her hands in his and kissed them. "We'll be together tomorrow."

Sarah fell upon her bed and was suddenly very, very tired.


	8. And Then

In a few short hours, everything had fallen to ruin.

Rebecca could still not fathom why such awfulness had chosen her. Why had her God been so vengeful against her? What sins had she committed? Rebecca had not been an appealing enough wife. She had not been an attentive enough mother. She had not protected her daughter in her hour of need and now Rebecca was going to pay the price of it. Yes, Rebecca was a sinner, the worst of sinners. Everything she had done had led this to happen.

That beast had taken everything. It had taken everything, and there must've been a reason. There was always a reason. The vampires in the castle did not take or harm others arbitrarily. For Sarah, Rebecca had always feared. She'd feared since Alana had joked about Sarah joining those creatures one day and feared more when it seemed the joke had become reality. Rebecca had feared for Sarah for all of Sarah's life. Perhaps she had not feared enough.

The ignorant child. The naïve little girl. Rebecca often joked that Sarah was as innocent as an angel and now found it horrifically true. Sarah was naïve to a fault. Sarah had tempted this man, this creature, this devil, for whatever stupid juvenile reason and had cursed herself. She'd cursed all of them. Yione was gone now. Yione was one of them.

Overcome with her grief, Rebecca fell to her bed in groaning exhaustion. There were hordes of people in the tavern, but she no longer cared. They wanted to ask her questions. They wanted to offer condolences. They wanted vengeance. Rebecca wanted to sleep. She wanted to sleep and to forget everything that had happened. And the patrons all waited about wondering if these foreigners could save them but nothing could save Rebecca. Nothing could save her now.

Gone. They were both gone. Her small family had left her.

Should she dare? Should Rebecca dare go to the castle and fetch back her family?

The idea was nonsense and yet… And yet…

Rebecca howled great sobs against her sheets as she stared at the now setting moon. Sarah was gone. Yione was gone.

Would they even come home if she came for them?

**OOO**

Sarah had the most wonderful dream.

It was certainly a dream this time, not a strange half waking like what had occurred earlier. For in this dream, things were fantastical and strange in ways they could not be in reality. Sarah was back in the ballroom, yet the dream land had no walls and no ceiling. Above her was a sky with chandeliers instead of stars and beside he were trees filled with fairy lights and beautifully dressed people. Not as beautiful as Sarah. Sarah was the most beautiful of all.

There she saw him. Her angel shined like a beacon for her and Sarah went to his arms readily. He was real. Of all the things in this strange place, Sarah was certain he was real. That was something these creatures could do, could they not? They could dream walk and visit people they found to be special…

"Is this real?" Sarah inquired of the dream man. The beautifully dressed people around them whirled into a dance and Sarah found herself doing the same.

"I made it for you," he said instead of an answer. He smiled his strange smile and Sarah felt like she was drowning in his eyes. She was not sure why she thought that phrase.

In this dreamland, Sarah danced with Count Von Krolock and he looked at her in that strange way he always looked at her. Sarah was reeling from the spinning but did not want to stop. God, she did not want to stop. This place was beautiful. This dreamland he had taken her to was beautiful. Would they go here all the time once she became like him? Would they live here in this land of color and trees?

"It is so beautiful," Sarah said. She laughed as he spun her around. Everything was funny here. It was like she was drunk on some liquor she'd never tasted before. It was a wonderful liquor. Sarah wanted more of it. She wanted more of this dream and of him and of everything. He held her as she laughed from the bubbles. He was very strong. And handsome. Sarah thought him the handsomest man she'd ever seen. It made her laugh. How she loved to laugh in this strange ballroom. He seemed pleased to watch her laugh.

"Are you happy?" He asked as Sarah lay against him from the laughter.

She flung out her arms, "Wonderfully!" She laughed again as she pulled him closer. He was so handsome, and this place was so beautiful. Sarah never wanted to leave. What a happy place this was. What a beautiful place…

Her dress was blue. No, it was red. Maybe it was purple. Sarah couldn't tell as they spun around the forest. Was this real? It couldn't be real, but he seemed real. Nothing was real but him. Everything that was him was so good.

Suddenly, they were kissing. They were elsewhere. They were not in the ballroom with trees and fairy lights. Sarah didn't know where they were but it was wonderful and warm. And he was kissing against her ear and on her neck and lifting her in his arms and whispering such sensual things and it was moving too quickly but Sarah didn't want to stop and she was getting dizzy but he was touching her and...

She awoke to an empty bedroom with bits of light peering through the shutters. A dream. It had just been a dream. Yet Sarah felt her breath heavy as though it had been real. She felt dizzy and drunk as though it had been real. It had not been real. It could not have been real.

He could have been real. Sarah was reeling at the memory of his kisses. She had not been kissed like that by anyone, not even in her dreams. Oh, it was going to be so wonderful to live here. A castle. Sarah was going to live in this castle and be treated like its queen. Her angel had whispered to her as much in her dream. Yes, he'd said how happy she was going to be and how badly he wanted her. In the dream, as he'd kissed her, he'd promised Sarah absolutely everything she'd ever wanted. How could he know that? How could he know everything she ever wanted if he were not an angel?

Yet Sarah was not an idiot: she knew what he was. She knew he was not an angel. She knew what he required of her. That didn't scare her. Which was a lie, and she knew it. It terrified her. The prospect of everything terrified her. For what if she displeased him? What if she were not what he wanted after all? He could be a very cruel man, their lord, and was unopposed to evicting those who could not pay their keep. What if Sarah could not pay her keep? What if he grew to hate her?

Nonsense, Sarah insisted as she sat up from her bed. The beautiful room proved a welcome distraction from her rampant thoughts. For it was so beautiful, her bedchamber. She did not think a bedchamber in a castle for vampires would be so well kept. She wondered if they all slept in bedchambers. She wondered which one his would be…

In the night, she had not noted the colors of it, but now she saw it was lushly adored in reds and golds. Not a room for a princess, she thought, but a queen. It was a queen's bedchamber. Her fingers ran down the thick curtains that surrounded her bed. The bed had been larger and softer than any she'd ever slept upon. There was also a great red setee upon which Sarah could not imagine sitting. It seemed to fine and too…too mature, almost. She was unsure why she thought such a thing.

_I shall sit upon it; it's mine._ Coquettishly, Sarah moved to the sensual red longue and laid herself upon it. It was wonderfully comfortable, she found, and made her feel powerful for whatever reason. Laughing to disperse the strange energy inside of her, Sarah stood and paced the rest of the large room. There was a wardrobe and a vanity and her red dress still stayed on its form near her door. So that had been real. That kiss had been real. Sarah imagined kissing him on the red setee. Kissing him on the red setee while wearing a red dress…

On the vanity were the jewelry pieces he had given her through the years. On the ground near it were the boots. The magical boots that had come from a rose. For Sarah had tucked a rose into her blanket and out had come her boots. Everything was red in this place, it seemed.

Except for a small item sitting on a table. It could not be… Sarah trotted towards it and found the bear her mama had ruined sitting perfectly unscathed upon the table. The bear, her bear. It almost made her cry to see it. Lifting it up, Sarah saw that it was the same one from before, sewn to no longer be so cruelly broken. Her bear. He had given her back her bear. It suddenly made her feel far less queen-like and much more child-like.

Mama. Oh, Sarah had hardly thought of mama. Mama was going to be so upset. Papa was going to be so upset. _They'd been so cruel,_ hissed a voice. _They were always so cruel._ Even so… Even so, Sarah had broken their hearts. The boy as well. The sweet, simple boy who'd wanted to run away with her. It seemed in following her own, Sarah had broken several hearts. Never had she intended to do such a thing.

Sarah clutched the bear tighter to her: he loved her. Her angel had to love her. He had promised her happiness. He had promised her exquisite happiness. Sarah was certain she had never been exquisitely happy about anything in her life. She wished he was here right now. Another part of her wished to never see him again.

But it was still morning.

Sarah blinked: today was her birthday. She had completely forgotten.

**OOO**

Whenever musing how her life would go, Magda had never anticipated anything like this.

Well, she supposed every girl dreamed of castle. A more niche type of girl dreamed of vampires. Living where she did, both had passed into the realm of her mind more than once. Though every time it did, the tale as an entirely different one. It was Magda who'd be a queen. It was Magda who'd life a lush life like the aristocratic vampires of this castle and others nearby. For there were other nearby. Magda had lived in a different village; that one too with a castle and that one too with vampires. But Magda had never supposed this…

It could be worse. Chagal had his charms, she supposed. And being a vampire made everything supersensual. Every little thing he did felt far more pleasurable than any man she had laid with before. Magda was no stranger to lying with men. She did a far better job at hiding this fact than most, but lay with men she did. And Chagal was…different.

The castle was nice at least. It seemed Chagal had forgotten all about why they had traveled here in the first place. He no longer cared that his daughter was wanted by the Count. He no longer cared about anything really but Magda and fucking. Magda was still curious. Of course Magda had heard all the rumors about Sarah when she took her position at the tavern. There were tales of Sarah being cursed, of a prophecy, or Sarah being so virtuous that he desired her, or Sarah being so immoral that he desired her. Magda hadn't any idea what to make of it. Sarah was virtuous, Magda knew that at least. The girl upturned her nose at nearly everything Magda ever did.

_What will she make of me now?_ Magda mused as she lay in a coffin with bite marks all over her body. Magda had not even considered that they could continue sucking on each other even after than change was complete. She quite liked the pleasurable pain of it. She liked her new life. A very different life, but a far better one. A more powerful one.

A slightly more powerful one, perhaps. Magda was still under The Count's rule. When they had approached the castle, The Count told them they must obey his rules to stay in his court and receive his protection. They must also never leave his lands without permission or suffer great consequences. "Great consequences" with a man such as he surely meant death. Chagal had not even asked about Sarah when they were ushered inside. That old man and the boy had been following; there had not been time.

Even after, Chagal said nothing of Sarah. It seemed he'd resigned her to whatever fate had been destined. Which, as Magda considered, might not be terrible. Being doted on by a count…

"Your daughter, Chagal," Magda began as they lie next to each other. "Is she here? Is she in the castle?"

"I don't know," Chagal answered. "Perhaps."

"You seem rather unconcerned."

"Need I be concerned?" His voice was gruff. "Sarah is not a child anymore."

"You were quite concerned earlier." Magda pressed. Her deadly curiosity was eating at her. "Why were you so concerned for her? Did things happen before? Things with him?"

"It matters not!" He announced. "Go to sleep. We've the ball tonight."

It seemed there was nothing else to be said and Magda was not in the mood for argument. I will find this out, she vowed. She would find out how such a little girl could have fallen under the spell of The Count.

**OOO**

"Lady Sarah?"

She jumped at the voice. She had not even hear the door open.

At the door was a girl. Not a girl, she supposed, but a woman. A woman who seemed not all that much older than she. Yet she had those features that Sarah noted all vampires seemed to have. Pale skin, sharp features, and red eyes. Her red eyes seemed like they were studied every form and feature of Sarah, as though searching for flaws on her and within her. Yet as she gazed, Sarah thought there was something vaguely familiar about her.

"Alana?" Sarah blinked. Yes, she remembered this woman. Barely had Sarah ever spoken to her, yet for whatever reason the memory was there. Sarah's mama had never much liked Alana. Alana had associated with vampires…

The woman smiled, "Yes, my lady." 'My lady,' that was strange. It made her feel like some great lady where Sarah knew she was not. Not really. "You've grown up so beautifully."

"H-how…" Sarah began but thought better of it. Of course she knew how Alana had become this way. What Sarah did not understand was why she was in her bedchamber now. Sarah was still in the nightdress. It made her feel very young to still be in her nightdress.

"I'm to draw you a bath, my lady." Alana spoke with that title again. Sarah wondered if she needed to correct her for she was not nobility. Alana had known that. Alana had known her when she was just a little girl. However, Sarah did not get a chance to say a word before she was led from her bedchamber and down the hall. There were eyes upon her. Sarah could not see them, but she could feel them. Somehow, she could hear them. They whispered things. Odd and enthralled things.

"Come, my lady." The vampire woman had stopped and Sarah had hardly noticed. She felt so foolish she could nearly die. Alana was staring at her strangely and Sarah desperately wanted to know what she was thinking. Part of her imagined it was not very kind. Regardless, the woman led her in to the bathroom that was just as breathtaking and ornate as every other part of the castle. Walls of white and gold and floors and dark stone. It was clean and smelt like flowers and all of it made her skin fill with gooseflesh.

Sarah froze slightly, staring at it all. She'd never seen a bath so large. It was surrounded by panels of faded paintings and great beams of gold stretched to the tall ceiling. Perhaps she'd stared to long, for Alana narrowed her eyes ever so slightly and Sarah scampered nearer.

Sarah glowered, "Sorry."

Alana breathed, "It's not for you to be sorry, my lady." As she spoke, she turned on the tap. Sarah could cry: they had taps here. How absolutely magical a place this was. The woman moved to a cabinet as Sarah spoke.

"Why do you call me 'my lady'?" Sarah shifted back and forth on her bare feet. She had not thought to put any type of shoe on, and she supposed now it did not matter. The scents coming from the bath were intoxicating, yet Sarah could not name the scent. It was most peculiar, like everything here, but it did not frighten her. Lush, bright bubbles appeared upon the surface.

"The Master's orders, my lady," Alana added oils to the mixture. "You are to be treated with the upmost respect. Treated as royalty."

That made Sarah flush instantly and suddenly made her feel much younger. A princess. It seemed Sarah truly was to be made a princess. Yet, it seemed, the woman was not so happy about this.

"What's he like?" Sarah eventually inquired. "Your master. The Count."

"Cold," Alana said immediately. The immediacy of it frightened her. "Aloof, yet very passionate." Those red eyes cast upon Sarah and Sarah felt the ferocity of them. "Extremely infatuated with you, my lady."

Sarah nearly smiled but the woman kept staring.

"He is not infatuated often. Or ever, from what I've heard."

It seemed a warning, not a praise, and Sarah was suddenly too frightened to inquire further. Alana too seemed uninclined to comment any further either. Her hand, like a pale spider, slipped beneath the water and turned it around slightly. The bubbles had grown to a truly insane height. Sarah thought she might drown in them. She wondered if the woman wanted her to drown in them. This woman did not like her, of that Sarah was very certain.

She turned, like she'd heard Sarah's thought, and walked towards her deliberately. Her eyes were hard and cold and Sarah knew not what this woman wanted of her. She gestured for Sarah to raise her arms and she did, then was hit with the very sudden fear of being naked in front of this woman. She did not at all want to be naked in front of this woman, but it seemed she'd little choice.

The nightdress was pulled from her and Sarah covered her exposure immediately. Something in this greatly amused Alana, for a smirk played on her teasing red lips. There was a new shame, a shame for covering herself, but Sarah was very set in her decision. This Alana woman hated her for whatever reason and Sarah would not stand naked in front of her.

"Why do you sneer at me?" Sarah asked and felt rather brazen in asking it. For it was Alana who just said that Sarah was meant to be treated with respect and it was Alana treating her without it.

Alana looked over her shoulder, stalking near her in a way Sarah very much did not like. Sarah very much wished she were wearing her nightdress again.

"You're very sweet," Alana said appraisingly. "You always were. Very beautiful too." Her spider like hand moved far too familiarly along Sarah's line. She did not like this woman. "No one quite understands this desperate infatuation, but I suppose there is something to it." Alana looked at Sarah like she was either going to kiss her or strike her, but the woman decided upon neither and turned to the bathroom door.

"I'll come for you in an hour's time." Alana spoke. "The ball is tonight and you must be perfect."

**OOO**

The boy. Sarah couldn't believe it: the boy was in the castle. The boy had come all this way to "save" her and was here in the castle. Her mind could hardly focus as Alana pulled her from the bath and dried her with a soft towel. Sarah cared not for covering herself or feeling strange: the boy was in the castle. Had Alana seen him? The woman said nothing about it. She pulled out some stopped of strange oils and began rubbing them into Sarah's skin.

"Sarah!" The boy with the wide eyes and blonde hair had appeared before her like he was a dream himself. Perhaps he was. Sarah had had such strange dreams in the castle.

"You." She'd breathed, pulling the large sponge she'd found in the bubbles to cover herself. The boy rushed forward like Sarah was not in a bath and like he was not something from a dream. No, he was real, Sarah decided. She was not imaginative enough to have made him up. Now he stared at her with his wide eyes and light hair and she felt a stirring inside of her that was both warm and strange.

He sighed, "Thank God, Sarah. Thank God. I thought you were dead."

"Dead?" It was the silliest thing she'd ever heard. "No. Of course not."

There was a shift in his form. Sarah had thought him a demure thing, especially last night, but there was a fire in him she'd not noted before. The fire flamed suddenly.

"We have to go," he instructed. "You must leave this place, Sarah."

"What?" She asked. "No. No. T-the ball is tonight. I've been invited, and it's-"

"Sarah." The boy moved like he wanted to take her hand. Like she did not now lie naked in a tub in front of him. Like it was not entirely untoward that he was in here at all. Like Alana was not right outside. God, had she seen? Would she tell? Sarah knew not the Count very well, but she couldn't imagine him being happy with this…

The boy's face pressed, "Sarah, these people aren't… They aren't people. They're not good-"

"I know what they are." Sarah told him sternly. It seemed to shock him. Good, she'd aimed to. "And they aren't bad." The bubbled prickled against her as she spoke. "I want to go to the ball. I've been invited. He's given me a dress and jewels. A bedroom too. It's all so…" It was probably best to say no more. "I'm not going to leave. I've been invited."

"Sarah, please." His voice broke and so did something inside of her. Perhaps she was being too cold. But she couldn't just… She couldn't just leave. This was all she'd ever wanted. This was all she'd ever dreamed about. Yet this boy had switched something in her and she didn't even know his name. You don't even know the Count's name.

The water suddenly felt colder. Was she to leave her fate in the hands of men whose names she did not even know? Sarah had given twelve years to a man whose name she did not even know.

The boy spoke, "Can we talk? Not in here. Just talk. I'll not try to make you leave but… Just talk. Please."

"All right." Sarah agreed without even thinking. For she was mad, wasn't she? She was insane to do all of this, and yet how could she not? She had devoted too much. Sarah had done too much to change her fate now. She was going to be a princess.

The memory faded as Alana's hand rubbed oil feverishly into Sarah's warm skin. Her hands moved in places Sarah did not particularly wish them and it made her wonder why she must be so perfumed. 'You must be perfect,' the woman had said. Thoughts were flying about in her head as more oil was poured into her hair and brushed through with a comb. It made Sarah feel like some sort of pet. A pet to be pampered and groomed and sent off to its owner.

No, no she must not think like that. This was her angel. This was her ball. This was all she'd ever wanted. He loved her. He seemed to love her. He'd given her such wonderful things and it would only continue now. A forever of wonderful things. Yes, yes! Everything she had ever wanted. She'd run off with the vampires and join them in the castle and then… She had not thought much about the "and then." For what was there after one's dreams were realized? Was there nothing else? There had to be something else. Sarah had never considered much the else.

The boy wanted to speak with her. Maybe the boy would help her.

"Here, my lady." A white robe was slid over Sarah's shoulders and clasped in the front. "To your bedchamber now. I shall dress you for the ball."

"Now?" Sarah felt her heart pounding. The boy. Where had the boy gone? Why did she want to see him so badly? Why did tears form in her eyes at the thought of not seeing him? The boy was so…easy. He was uncomplicated. Sarah could speak to him and tease him and not feel like everything inside of her was itching. The Count terrified her. He scared her to death. Last night in the dream had been beautiful, but she'd been terrified all the while. She did not know how to speak to him. She did not know what he wanted. No, she knew exactly what he wanted.

Sarah's face was flushing. Her legs could hardly move.

"Come along, my lady," Alana insisted and Sarah followed suit.

She must calm down. She must not lose her head. Tonight was the ball. Tonight, everything would be as it should be. It would not be scary. Nothing would be scary. They'd dance and kiss and then…

And then.

Sarah knew not what would happen in the "and then."

And she felt like an absolute idiot for never considering it.


	9. Awaken to Darkness

Sarah didn't know much else, but she knew it was dark. _Oh, oh God._ She tried to remember prayers she no longer knew the words to. Her heart seized in her chest as the memories swarmed into one terrible cacophony of color. Like the dresses at the ball, the visions swirled together breathlessly, too fast for her to get a hold of. Tears were forming in her eyes suddenly as the whole night replayed itself. Everything… Everything had… And where was she now? What had they done to her now?

She tried to sit up but found she could not. In a box. They'd put her in a box. Why? Why? _Because you killed Alfred. You killed him, you murderer._ Sarah's breaths were wild and rapid as she tried to push against her confinement. _Alfred shouldn't have taken me. He shouldn't have. He should've known vampires are unstable when first made and I shouldn't have killed him and I should've stayed here but I didn't know what was going on-_

"Sarah."

A hand had snatched her wrist and the tears were pouring form her eyes. Her eyes adjusted to the blackness and she found she could see quite well in it. Count Von Krolock was here too. Why? Did he not hate her? _I hadn't meant to run away,_ she wanted to say but couldn't speak. _I hadn't. I didn't know what was going on or where I was and-_ Her breathing was wild as fire poured through her body. Dying. Maria had said your body dies in the change. Why did it hurt so much? It ached like nothing she'd ever known. It made her feel sick with an illness she could not name. And this box. Damn this box. How was she meant to breathe in this box?

"Let me out." Sarah whimpered. "Please, I want to go home. Let me go home. Please. Please."

"Hush. You need to rest."

He was speaking so calmly to her. Speaking to her like she was nothing but a petulant child. Perhaps that's all she'd been to him this whole time: a child. Certainly she'd felt like one tonight. How he had sneered at her. How cruelly he'd forced her and...

Sarah looked down and saw she'd been changed back into her white shift. She tried to remember what had happened but hardly could. They'd made it back to the castle, obviously, but Sarah hadn't the faintest idea how. She'd bitten Alfred, she knew that, and Sarah was certain he'd died. He had to have died. God, there'd been so much blood. Sarah had been drowning in all the blood.

And now she could not breathe. A coffin: that's what they were in. A very large one, but she was still rather close to him. It was odd to be close to him. Last night, she would've craved being close to him but now he filled her with a fear that didn't have a name. He did not love her. They were right. Everyone had been right. He did not love her. He had let her fall to the ground. He had just stared at her. Sneered at her. _I hadn't meant to run away,_ Sarah wanted to say, but found she couldn't speak. There were tears coming out of her eyes now. Not big and sobbing tears like when she was a child, but silent ones that slid down her cheeks and onto the lining of the tomb.

"Please," Sarah blubbered.

"Rest, Sarah. No more speaking."

It would be best to obey him, of that she was certain. When he'd pulled her from the snow, she'd kicked and screamed but he had been far more powerful than her. Yes, now it would be best not to fight him. It did not seem like he was…it did not seem like he meant to harm her. Not now at least.

Sarah shut her eyes and let the memories fill her. He'd come for her. After Alfred had fallen, and the professor had fled, her angel had come for her. Not an angel. No, Sarah did not want to go with him. Alfred was dead now. God, she had just learned his name and now he was dead. He'd wanted to run away with her. He'd wanted her to be safe and to run away with her. Alfred had been right the whole time. He'd been right about all of it and now it was all ruined. It was ruined beyond repair.

Like a banshee Sarah had screamed when The Count pulled her away from the boy. She fought him like a cat when he carried her off to the castle. Burned. A part of the outside was charred. What had happened? Sarah's head felt like it was going to explode. She felt like she was going to vomit, and he just kept walking with her. He didn't even speak to her. He didn't even yell. Sarah would've like it better if he had yelled or fought her but he just let her writhe like a demon and did nothing to abate her. Like a child. That's all she was to him: a child. He had kissed her and promised her everything and she'd followed him like a baby.

Into the castle they went and down some stairs she had not seen before. They were in a dark place. He'd barked something at a servant and a door had been slammed. It was dark as night here and cold. Colder than anything in the whole world. He'd held her face in his hand and still said nothing. His thumb pried up her lip and saw the fangs that were aching there. Fangs that had killed Alfred. Fangs that had left Alfred dead in the snow. And Count Von Krolock looked at her so strangely.

One hand left her cheek and Sarah felt like keeling over. Never had she been so tired. Never had her body ached so much. This was not wonderful. This was not beautiful. A strange tearing sound alerted her ears and suddenly something warm was pressed against her mouth. Am arm. His arm. His wrist. There was blood pouring out of it. He expected her to drink it. Why drink it? Sarah wanted no more. She wanted no more of this and… And yet she swallowed it. It did not taste any different than the boy's had. He held her tightly against it. He made her drink and keep drinking and then…

She had to pull back. She was going to be sick. The drink was filling her too much: there was no room for it all. And her mind was on fire. Her whole being was on fire, and yet he kept her pressed against it. Sarah was crying. This was awful. He was trying to kill her. The blood could not fit in her anymore and she felt it dripping to the ground in front of her when he finally relented. He let her stand there, humiliated and mortified, for a long moment before he had her move. Like a sick child, Sarah teetered to him and dropped her head like a great weight upon his chest. She was going to vomit. She was going to vomit great mounds of blood all over the front of him. This was horrendous. This was disgusting. Her head felt like insects had been crammed inside of it. Yet his hands brushed back her hair, muttering things she couldn't remember. He kissed her brow. Or perhaps she'd dreamt that.

It was him who'd undressed her, now she remembered. And she remembered being so tired that it did not affect her as it should have. He undid the dress, the skirts, the corset, and she was not as frightened by that as she should have been. Sarah had felt like a child and a child had nothing to fear from such things. She stood in her shift before him and was not scared. He'd brushed her form softly like he was surveying her and Sarah was too tired to care about what he meant to do with her. He'd taken the pins from her hair and Sarah thought nothing of it. So tired. Never had she been this tired. She groaned from standing and felt his arms holding her upright.

He'd told her that she needed to lie down. Her legs had not moved so he'd picked her up and laid her in a box. Not a box, a coffin. It filled her stomach with dread like rocks as she lay down in it. Now the fear crept up on her. The fear that he'd _undressed_ her and laid her in this box. This fear of being completely and utterly in another's power. It was humiliating. It was all so humiliating she thought she'd die from it. He meant to force himself upon her and Sarah had no means to stop him. It made her cry again. He was going to hurt her. God, she wanted to go home. She wanted to leave here. She wanted her mama

Yet he did no touch her. He'd not touched her as he slid the lid upon over them incasing them alone in this coffin. He'd not touched her after as she lie next to him crying. He'd not touched her until she'd tried to leave, and even then he had not touched her in the way she'd been fearing.

What struck her was that it felt good when he touched her. He'd done naught but grab her wrist, but it had felt good. It had made the sickness go away for a moment. It had made the fear and the pain leave her when he touched her. Sarah supposed it…supposed it had something to do with the blood. Maria had said something about that a long time ago. That had been so long ago.

She rolled to her side and rested herself against him. Instantly, it seemed she'd made a wrong decision. He was cold, colder than usual, and seemed to have an immediate revulsion to her being against him. Yet in the moment she thought she should turn away and act as though it had not happened, he relaxed. The fire inside of her was dying. The pain inside of her was healing itself. Yes, yes Sarah liked being close to him and inhaling him and clearing the clouded parts of her mind. She let her tears soak into his white shirt. She needed him, for whatever reason. She needed him to get better. His fingers ran through her hair softly and more tender than she had expected. It felt familiar too, this motion. She wondered if he had done this before and she simply didn't remember. His arm wrapped around her and she wasn't frightened.

It seemed her might speak to her, but he didn't. He didn't say a word for the rest of the night. Or, if he did, Sarah had been sleeping and had not heard him.

**OOO**

Alfred had decided that if this vampire tried again to violate him that he would kill him.

Of course Alfred had absolutely no idea how that would be done, but he'd find a way. There was nothing to kill a vampire with in a coffin of course. In a case of bitter irony, Alfred was now incased in the very same coffin he'd been unable to kill the creatures in earlier. How he wished he'd been able to do it. What had stopped him? Why had Alfred considered, even for a moment, that he should not do this? They were monsters. Yes, monsters! What they had done to Sarah… What they had done to him!

Sarah. Oh Sarah. Alfred's chest ached at the mere thought of her. That beast had run off with her. The beautiful girl had tried with her might to fight him off, but the beast had taken her off into the storm. She was near now, he could feel her, but that demon still had his talons stuck into her. Even in this damnation, the monster got to have her. Sweet Sarah. Perfect Sarah. It was she that had done this to him, but Alfred didn't care. It had… it had been a shock to his system, but now he saw it as a change of plan. He and Sarah would still be together. They'd still be together just… just different now.

He had to get her out. He had to free her. That monster had… God, if he'd _touched_ Sarah Alfred would-

"You're really going to need to sleep at some point, chéri."

The awful son spoke to him and Alfred tried his best to ignore. He despised this one just as much as the father.

Alfred broke, "Why? So you can violate me?"

The son groaned, "I'll admit I was a bit…overexcited earlier, but I do not hold with rape, dear. I won't touch you. I swear it."

"Your swears mean nothing to me."

"You're going to have a rotten time adjusting to life here, Alfred, if you've already decided you hate us all." The blonde vampire spoke so blasé, like absolutely nothing was wrong.

The boy spat, "I don't intend to adjust to life here. I intend to leave."

"Is that so?" The vampire said in his terrible mocking tone. "What: steal the girl, leave the castle? That went so well the first time."

Alfred huffed.

"Besides," The vampire continued. "There aren't many places to go to when you're our kind. You'll find it's far easier to live in a group, with others. You and papa's pet would not last very long on your own. You're young: you shall need older creatures to guide and protect you. Papa may not like you, but if you stay out of his way and away from the girl, he will protect you."

Again, Alfred said nothing, his fingers studied the lining on the wall of the coffin. It was silken and fine and a terrible purple color. Again, he was filled with a disdain for this place and the things inside of it. He had Sarah would be fine on their own, this vampire was lying to them. Sarah loved him. Sarah had kissed him and she had made him so she must… She must…

"And should you stay—which you should—I truly do recommend staying a bit away from our dear Sarah. Father is already un-enthralled by you. You're here now by my good graces."

"Do you expect me to be grateful?"

"I expect you to have some perspective and not do anything too stupid." The tone of this vampire's voice confused him, but Alfred decided not to think much upon it. "Now, you really need to sleep. The change requires much rest."

Alfred decided he would not sleep, but it seemed his body overpowered. Eventually he did sleep and it seemed the vampire had kept his promise to keep his distance. Alfred wanted to dream of Sarah, but he found he now dreamt of nothing.

**OOO**

_Sarah had been so beautiful at the ball. Her gown was redder than anything she'd ever seen and her jewels sat against her skin like they had always been meant to be set upon it. Never in her entire life had Sarah felt more beautiful. In fact, the whole way there she felt like she were floating. All her life, all her life, she'd wanted nothing more than this: to be a princess. To be the princess of the vampire's ball._

_Now was her moment. Now was her moment as she stood atop the stairway and felt everyone's eyes upon her. Strange creatures they were, but Sarah was not looking at them. She was looking at every bit of everything at once. A ball. A ball in the vampire's castle and she was the queen of it. Never had she felt more regal. Never had she felt lighter._

_There he was, waiting for her. Her angel looked so handsome in his fine attire with lace lined sleeves. He held out his hand for her like she were some great lady and Sarah was pleased to take it. Yet his grip seemed too tight and the ballroom seemed to colorful. Everything began to whirl like it had the night before. Sarah could hardly remember the night before. It had not felt real. She thought she had dreamt it. Did she dream now?_

_He seemed to want to dance with her. Maybe kiss her. He was staring at her so strangely but it made her smile. Then he cast her smile away. In a move that made the dream shatter and the world stop turning, her angel roughly cast her head to the side and sunk his fangs into her neck._

_That was when the fire began. That was when the light faded out. That was when she heard the laughs and sneers of the deranged creatures around her. In her haze, she saw them clearly: far more clearly than she ever had before. Their faces were grotesque, their expressions even more so. They cheered at this display like it were something that gave them delight. Like her pain gave them great pleasure. She was not their queen, she was a court jester. No, something lowlier than that. A slave, perhaps. Or a dog._

_In just an instant, Sarah could see clearly what she had not seen for her entire life. In just one brief moment, everything flipped or perhaps she had stayed level. In just one second, everything had shattered._

_The Count drew back and Sarah could hardly stand. A pounding in her mind echoed the pounding of the music and the cacophony of the laughs. She was dying now. Yes, that is what happened. Sarah had known that. Sarah had known all of this. Why, oh why, had it not frightened her?_

_She reached for his hand to steady herself, but she had fallen down. Fallen down while everyone laughed at her: little slave, tiny dog. The humiliation filled her like some bitter wine, for she had wanted this. This had all struck her by her own hand. Her whole life, her whole life she'd wanted this and him and thought it sweet and beautiful and… How stupid. How infinitely stupid. She was dying. Sarah was dying and wanted to lie upon the stone floor and let death take her but knew it would refuse._

_The Count stood there next to her and she felt his gaze upon her. Perhaps she should get up. Maybe it was embarrassing for him how she stayed upon the ground. His boots, shining black boots, gazed at her like large beetles. She could not think of looking at his face for she'd already pictured the sneer upon it. She'd already fathomed how amusing this must be for him._

_Long moments passed and he did nothing to help her. He did not reach down to assist her, just stayed there with his beetle boots which stared her in the eye. Those swarming vampires all kept sneering, hissing. Yes, what a stupid little girl she was to have stayed upon the ground. Vapid little slave. Ignorant little dog._

_He grabbed her by her shoulder and hoisted her back onto her feet. She still would not look at him. She was going to be sick. The creatures still sneered at her. The vampire next to her took her hand and made her dance like a puppet on strings. Sarah did not know him. Why she ever thought she did, she could not fathom. Never had Sarah known this man. Never had she even learned his name._

_In a sequence that seemed too move too quickly for her to remember, Sarah was grabbed by Alfred. Alfred and the old man who wore ridiculous outfits and wanted to save her. Save her? No, there was no saving now. Yet as she was pulled from The Count, Sarah felt an ache deep in her chest to be near him. It was primal, this aching, and unlike anything she'd known. Sarah needed him. As frightened as she was, something in her needed him._

_He'd bellowed like something from Hell to have her back as the vampires around him were frozen still. Sarah could not see what stopped them: everything looked like fire. Dragged off again she was, feeling like she was going to be sick the whole time. Feeling like her insides were being torn from her as she ran through the snow. The boy grasped her hand and promised her everything would be fine. Sarah didn't know if he was telling the truth._

_They stopped some place, some clear place, and Sarah fell onto her hands and knees once again. The world was turning in spirals of colors she could not name. The boy was trying to speak to her, but Sarah could hardly hear him. Some great fire was fuming in her chest; it took her whole and possessed her being._

_"Sarah," the boy knelt next to her. "Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry he hurt you. But we can make you well again! The professor knows how!" He looked to the old man to agree, but the man was distracted by a notebook. "Sarah, I was so worried. I was so scared."_

_"Scared?" Sarah asked, her breath making no impact in the cold air._

_He nodded, "Yes. But we're together now. We're together and we can go far, far away. Wherever you want."_

_Wherever she wanted, that sounded so wonderful. Yes, yes he truly was a wonderful boy. Sarah hadn't the faintest idea why he'd become so attached to her, but she liked for whatever reason. He was a beautiful boy. His face was like one great painters would put in the portraits. Beautiful and golden, unlike those dark and twisted things at the castle. Sarah liked him very much._

_"What's your name?" She asked, for she wanted to know it. Sarah was sick of people that she did not know the names of._

_He smiled, "Alfred."_

_"Alfred," Sarah repeated. A charming name. A charming, Western name. Yes, Sarah liked him. She liked him so much._

_She kissed him. She was not sure why. Something deep in her had wanted to do it and so she had complied. It was sweet, kissing him. It was not at all like the kiss last night in the twisted world of dreams. No, this kiss was light as air and filled her with bubbles instead of blood. He was so sweet. Sarah liked how sweet he was and how dear he was… And how his hand rested on her back and how she knew that he wanted her but would never be so forward. The kiss grew deeper and she placed a hand upon his cheek. Sarah could do whatever she wanted to him and he'd allow it. So devoted to her he was that Sarah could do absolutely anything…_

_Her lips moved into his neck, and before she knew what she was doing, she was drinking his blood. Fangs had come from her gums and plunged into his neck and his sweet, hot blood was filling her mouth. She could not stop. How could anyone stop? It was like a frenzy. Like a frenzy sent down by Dionysus himself. It filled her up and obsessed her and he tried to utter a scream but could not. He was in her power now…_

The coffin had been opened when Sarah sat up. The coffin had been opened and its other occupant was gone without words or a note or any sign that he'd actually been there at all. Her chest heaved immediately: where had he gone? He'd left her. He'd left her, no doubt. Now she was alone again. Alone and she was going to do something awful. Where was he? Why did it ache to have him not be near her?

"Sarah?"

Her head turned immediately. It was a voice, not The Count's voice but…

Alfred stood just a few paces away, "Sarah."

She could cry: Alfred was alive.


	10. Devotion

Sarah's arms engulfed him and Alfred felt the fire inside of him sated and yet growing all at the same moment. This devotion was new, yet as deep and familiar as the old one. He wanted to run off with her now. They would not get far, but he wanted to take her regardless. Last night had been so strange. Sarah had held him, caressed him, kissed him like he were something worthwhile to her. Like she felt this same fire that he did. Her bite had been horribly pleasant as it had burned against his skin.

Suddenly, she jumped from his arms and set a distance between them. He'd displeased her. He had no idea how he'd done it, but he knew that he had. Oh, to displease Sarah! Alfred would go through fire if it would prevent her from being displeased. His devotion to her seemed to have increased tenfold from before. What did she want of him? Alfred would do anything she wanted of him. She was a goddess to him: something now to be worshipped and adored.

"I thought I had killed you." The girl admitted and then broke into a sob. Oh, her tears! He could not stand to see her tears. Alfred rushed to her and brushed them away with his thumb. He wanted to kiss them, they were so precious. Yet this goddess seemed displeased with his touch. "I'm so sorry, Alfred. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." He told her fervently. "You did not mean to."

"No, I meant to!" Sarah insisted, her voice hysterical. "I meant to! I meant all of this and now I… Now I don't know." Her little body shook and he wanted to wrap his arms around it. How could he protect her? What could he do to help her? Alfred would do anything, anything at all she commanded.

"What do you want?" Alfred inquired of the angel. "What do you want, Sarah? Name it. I'll do anything for you." His hands brushed her shoulders and his eyes glanced the horrible gash upon her neck. The fiend. The monster. Had he harmed her? Alfred would kill him if he so much as laid a finger upon Sarah.

"No..." She groaned, brushing his arms away. Her eyes, beautifully brown eyes, would not look up at him. It was like she was sick, horribly sick. Alfred did not know how to help her. "No, I don't want this. I don't want..."

"What?"

"This!" Sarah gestured to him, those eyes finally meeting his. "I don't want a slave, Alfred! That's what you'll be now, isn't it? Because I made you, you'll be bared to me. I don't want you to be. I didn't mean for you to be-"

He stepped forward, "Sarah-"

"Don't touch me!" She commanded in a voice that forced him to comply. His body could not move even if he wished it. All in a moment, her bright eyes widened. "No, no, I... I'm sorry for last night. I'm sorry for changing you and kissing you and all of it! I'm so very sorry." Her eyes locked on his, panic stricken. "And what am I now? Am I a slave now? Will I have to do whatever he wants?"

"I won't let him touch you!" Alfred told her fiercely but she threw up a hand to silence him.

She shook her head, "No, no. I don't need you to... I need to leave. I have to go. I feel sick, Alfred. I've never felt so sick." Again she burst into tears but her warning not to touch her rang in his mind like a terrible chorus. "I don't think this is right. I think something is wrong with me."

"Sarah!" He called desperately, but she had turned her back to him. In an instant she was gone and everything inside of him was ruined.

**OOO**

He had left her lying there when he awoke to attended to the castle. For what was he meant to do? There was business to attend to and Sarah was…distraught. Far more distraught than he had anticipated her to be. How she had screamed when he'd taken her in his arms. How terribly she had gazed at him. Had she not desired this? Had she not desired this freedom from her mundane and dreary life? She had wanted him as he'd wanted her, he'd been certain and yet…

Never mind it, it would all be remedied soon enough. The boy would be gone as soon as Von Krolock could manage it, and Sarah would adjust simply enough. The change was more gripping for some, but Sarah would be his. He'd given her his blood insuring that she would be. He had not anticipated Sarah poisoning the boy's blood but it was of little consequence now. Sarah's ties would only be to Von Krolock. Her loyalty would only fall to him.

There were other things to attend to than the emotions of a young girl. A wing of the castle needed to be restored from the fire. The Professor had fled and Von Krolock had already sent out scavengers to be rid of him. He could not allow word to go to the village. He could not allow an outcry.

He had left Sarah lying there when he awoke to attend his business. She'd awakened from her peace for a moment asking where he was going before he placed a kiss upon her temple and willed her back to slumber. She had rested so sweetly in his arms. After her tears and her pleadings, she had rested in his arms and drifted off to sleep. Everything would be fine. Sarah would soon find remedy when she stopped denying herself her desires. Sarah would find remedy when she allowed herself to be his.

For that was how such a changed functioned. She was his now, an extension of him, and she would be sick and tormented should she deny such a truth.

Hours later, she was awake. He sensed it like a part of himself. Still extremely frightened was she. Still very ill was she. _Come to me,_ he willed but it seemed she would not heed him. _Come to me,_ he insisted again and yet still felt her denying him. Von Krolock moved from his study, sensing her in the near corridor. She breezed past him like she did not see him, her eyes setting upon the grand staircase. It seemed she meant to leave.

He followed her down the hall and the girl made no move to see him. Silently, he stalked her and descended the staircase behind her, completely un-sensed by her. That was a thing he'd have to teach her, he realized, sensing those around her. There was much to teach her but he would not mind it. She was to be his now, his companion. She was not going to run away. Not easily at least.

**OOO**

Herbert had convinced Alfred not to follow Sarah and instead whisked him down the hall and off towards his bed chamber. Not for any nefarious purpose, mind you (though some did cross his mind), but to save Alfred a dreadful run in with Herbert's father. No doubt father would want much with the girl and it would be best if Alfred were not in the way. Father was unamused by last night's debacle and all the others had been as well. Yes, it was in Alfred's best interest to be far, far away from father. Herbert mused to himself that perhaps the girl could relieve father's torments and then felt like vomiting for thinking such a thing.

_Perhaps Alfred could relieve my torments,_ Herbert mused gesturing the boy in the bed chamber. The boy seemed—once again—nervous the gesture but Herbert rolled his eyes and the boy agreed.

"I'll never hold with rape," Herbert assured him once again. "I've not brought you in here to 'corrupt' you, chéri. It would just be wise for you to stay away from father for the time being. And from his pet too."

"Stop calling her 'his pet'." Alfred grumbled, sitting onto the bed gruffly. Herbert glanced about the room, his own room, and fancied it needed a dusting. "She's not his pet."

God, they were always like this when they were first made. The devotion at first was sickening, and especially worse if some feeling had already resided. Alfred was so utterly devoted to Sarah that he was going to make himself sick with it. Sarah was Herbert's fathers now and Herbert's father was not one keen upon sharing. Especially not with how he'd pined for that girl for years and years...

_Well, if father gets a new companion, I should too,_ Herbert thought as he sat upon the bed. For father was getting a new companion, was he not? It was an odd thing to really consider. For over hour hundred years it had only been consistently Herbert and this father in this place. Was this Sarah meant to be here forever? Was she just a passing obsession?

Herbert sighed. "I know you've taken a fancy to her, darling, but she and father are bonded now and there is no going back."

"Bonded?" Alfred said with a horrified look. Good, so it seemed the little vampire hunter knew a least a bit about the creatures he was trying to kill. "How can they be bonded?"

"I gather he fed her his blood after we dragged the both of you here." Herbert knew, for Herbert could sense such things. In a bloodline as old as theirs, one could sense when another was added to it. As he thought more on his previous musing, Herbert surmised that perhaps Sarah was not a passing obsession for father hardly ever added others to the bloodline. Herbert could not even remember a time that he'd created a blood bond with another.

He cleared his throat. "As for consummation, I make it a point not to know those details about my father."

Alfred groaned at the word, dropping his head into his hands. Men could be so peculiar about women, Herbert thought as he watched Alfred in his self-inflicted agony. Men could be so peculiar about Sarah, Herbert corrected as he studied his nails. Herbert couldn't help but smirk, for having Alfred here was proving to be entirely amusing. Would it matter if Sarah had slept with Herbert's father? Was Alfred of the type to believe all women need be virgins to be worth anything at all? Or was he just too innocent to even consider such a thing? When Alfred meets the other creatures of the castle he is going to be absolutely horrified.

"Well you can't spend the rest of eternity bemoaning your fate upon my bed." Herbert moved towards the boy who was still covering his face in his distress. "You definitely can spend it in my bed, but you'll be no fun if you're crying the whole time."

"I'm not-"

"Joking," Herbert said with a smirk. "Now get up, you'll wrinkle the sheets."

Slowly, Alfred peeled himself from the bed, though he did still look like he was going to vomit. Not only that, the whole of him was quite a mess. His clothes were shabby and his hair absolutely all over the place. This would not do.

Alfred narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"You look dreadful," Herbert responded. "Here, we'll brush your hair and get you new clothes-"

"I'm not changing in front of you."

"Oh, you caught me! This was an elaborate seduction ploy!" Herbert feigned flirtation as he walked to his wardrobe. Alfred was a bit thinner than he, but he suppose they could find something to fit.

Alfred responded gruffly, "Just yesterday you attacked me in the hall!"

"I was overly excited. It shan't happen again." Herbert pulled out a simple white shirt and pants. He was certain Alfred wouldn't want anything more flamboyant than that. Yet. "Here. I'll leave, if that makes you more comfortable." Alfred said it would so Herbert waited in the hall until the boy came out looking far better than he had before. Herbert grinned, "You look tres handsome chéri."

"Thanks," Alfred grumbled in his now usual grumpy tone. He hesitated. "So what do we do? I mean...what do you do with eternity?"

"Well," Herbert began slowly. "I usually start with breakfast."

**OOO**

He was right behind her. Of course he was, Sarah knew that. Suddenly, she wished more than nothing else that she was brave. She wished she was brave like other women to just face him and not be so frightened of him. Other women all wanted to be in the castle. Other women had talked of how wonderful of lovers vampires were and now Sarah felt her whole face flushing. Why be so frightened of him now? Never in her life had he scared her. He'd been her angel, her favorite bedtime story. Even when he should have, never had be frightened her.

Nothing he'd ever done had frightened her like his hand on her shoulder now did. Nothing was scarier than that.

"I want to go." She said and her voice felt no larger than a mouse. No, something smaller than a mouse. An ant perhaps. A flea. Yet he said nothing and she felt him step nearer. The door was so close. Outside it, it was dark and cold and no doubt her mama and papa were frantically worried for her. How terrible she had been to have left them. What an awful, ungrateful, horrible daughter she was.

She continued, "Please. I want to go."

"Where do you want to go, my dearest one?" His hands locked in her hair like long needles. They twisted around, moving her hair like a needle moves thread. His dearest one. Was she truly his dearest one? Or was this all a lie, a deception, like she'd been told it was before. Yet even as he frightened her, Sarah felt oddly comforted by him as a warmth spread all through her body. Like a spider and a fly... She thought wistfully but didn't think of the danger of it. As he spoke, his voice was like a lullaby long forgotten. Was he singing? She no longer could tell.

"I-I..." Sarah stammered but had forgotten why she was standing there by the door. She wanted to... She wanted to be with him. Yes, he made her feel better. It felt like... It felt like he'd stolen half of her and now held it captive deep in his chest. If only she could tear him open and take that bit back, then she could leave. But for now... For now she wanted to be closer to him. She wanted to stay here. And visions filled her mind like they had before but they were more vivid now. Bright reds and purples in a room made of glass and diamonds and kisses and touches and not feeling so sick and not feeling so sad...

"Come, Sarah," he extended a hand and she took it like a child lost somewhere in a daydream. They walked a familiar way and Sarah came to realize he was guiding her back to the room she'd had before. This part of the castle had not been touched by the fire she'd seen earlier. Down the hall was the room with the bath and several other rooms she had not seen. He led her into the bed chamber but no fear took hold of her like she thought it would.

The Count let go of her hand, moving to the room's wardrobe. Everything looked different now; she had not noticed when she'd first woken up. The colors of the room seemed bright and vivid though the castle's interior was quite dark. Could she see in darkness now? Yes, it seemed she could for there were no candles. How strange to live in a place with no light. It frightened her to think it. Why had he moved so far away from her? Sarah felt so sick when he was far away from her.

"Here." He came back to her with a dress in his arms. "I'll fetch someone to dress you."

"I can dress." Sarah told him immediately for she knew not what else to say. Certainly, she could not look at him either. Why could she not breathe with him near? Her hand touched the dress softly and it seemed to be filled with magic.

"Whatever makes you comfortable." His words were so soft as he spoke to her. They were soft like the finest of fabrics. Again he moved from her, setting the dress out upon the bed. It was dark blue and beautiful and Sarah was left to wonder why he had purchased her such finery. Perhaps there were others before her, others he had fixated upon. Maybe these were dresses worn by others before her and were now meant to be her own. These were other things she had not considered. So many things she had not considered...

How terribly Sarah had wanted all of this and now she had it and knew not what to do. She'd wanted to be a princess. A beautiful princess and Sarah had cast her angel as her handsome prince. They'd live in their castle and be in love and everything would be wonderful. What a silly dream. What a ridiculous fancy.

"How do you feel?" He asked suddenly and she knew not how to respond. His hands cupped the sides of her face, his long thumb brushing along her cheek. Everything inside of her turned to have him touching her so lithely. That ache inside of her was flaring up again. Those giddy feelings she once felt were returning.

Sarah blinked, "I feel ill. Very ill." And she felt compelled to look him in the eye so she did and everything inside of her was rupturing.

"You're frightened." He told her and Sarah found herself nodding even though she did not mean to. "What scares you, precious one?"

"You." She admitted without even a thought. It was the truth, of course it was, but her saying it perplexed her. Then his odd and bone like hand reached for her chin, holding it so her eyes must meet his even if she did not want them to.

"You need not be frightened of me." He told her and she nodded though her heart was still pounding. Sarah had the worst fear that he was going to kiss her, and an even more terrible fear that he would not. "This is your home now, Sarah. This castle. I don't want you to be frightened here."

Her head bobbed once again thought again she did not mean it. It allowed her a release from his grasp in the least. She let her eyes flit about the room. The beautiful bed was still so lush and that ridiculous red lounge still sat in the corner. It seemed to mock her. It seemed to mock her and the ridiculous fantasies she had had the previous night. Silly fancies of him kissing her. Why did it matter that he kissed her?

"What are you thinking?" The Count asked of her for she had begun to move about the bedroom. Sarah was not sure why. Then her legs seemed to be frozen and she was more sure why. He was a hypnotist. Yes, Sarah remembered someone telling her that. And with him creating her... Sarah was certain she must do whatever he desired of her. The thought made her feel ill again.

Sarah blinked, "Stop that."

"You're welcome anywhere in the castle." He continued like he had not heard her nor asked her for her thoughts.

She half wanted to ask if she could leave but knew the answer already.

"What am I meant to do?" Sarah inquired, for the question had been pressing at her mind. "What am I meant to do here?" Her thoughts raced with what he might answer, for he was staring at her so queerly and she felt her face burning up with fire. He stared at her like one stares at a clown or an amusing painting or a silly, silly child.

He answered simply, "Whatever you wish." The paused a long moment before talking again. "Though there are rules."

"Rules?" Sarah repeated, her mind racing with foul and terrible things.

"Simple things," The Count replied. "Don't hunt in the village. Try to stay out of sight. Don't harm children." He stepped nearer, "And you must not leave the castle until maters have been sorted."

Her eyes blinked, wondering what he meant by that. The strange haze had come back: the strange haze that always came back when he was near. Part of this hypnotism, no doubt. Could she hypnotize now too? Sarah had so many things to ask him, but he seemed very inclined not to speak much with her. Everything he said seemed a riddle…. A riddle revealing more riddles…

Sarah dropped her gaze, "All right." Then his hand moved again to brush her hair away. She would not let it affect her. She could not let him affect her. "Is this my room now? Is this where I stay?"

"If you wish."

Sarah wanted to slap him. Sarah wanted to scream at him and toss him out the window and set the castle aflame with herself inside of it. Why could he not just say what he desired of her? Why could he not just say what she was here and what he wanted? Sarah knew what he wanted. It dropped like a boulder in her stomach when she thought it but she knew it in the very least.

So she was to stay in this room for her mornings or go lie back in that box with him. It seemed her options were humiliation or loneliness and Sarah knew not which was worse. Then he moved to leave her and she knew which one she could not bear.

"Wait." Her fingers grasped the fine cloth of his long cape. She ran her thumb along it gingerly, feeling his free beneath her fingertips. "Please don't go."

Her mind raced with what he was going to do. She wondered if he'd kiss her. Sarah wanted him to kiss her. She thought of all those happy visions she'd had, those wonderful fantasies. She thought of those years of waiting and yearning and wanting and how she did not want them to be soiled. Did he even care about her? Sarah thought he cared about her. How could he just leave her? Leave her all alone in this bedroom. Leave her and not hold her... he had held her while they rested. Did he remember? Sarah did. She had liked being in his arms. For her whole life, all she wanted was to be in his arms.

"I..." Sarah stammered as he turned back towards her. "I... don't know what to do. I feel so-"

"Hush."

He reached for her and Sarah collapsed into his arms once again. _Please,_ I don't understand, she wanted to beg. _Tell me what's happening. Please don't leave me alone. Why did you want me? Why for all these years did you want me? I don't understand. I thought I understood but I do not._ Her eyes opened and were stuck in the darkness of his attire. Sarah remembered she still wore the flimsy shift and she wished she were wearing something less ridiculous. What sort of lady parades around in her undergarment? Her mother would've been so cross with her. Oh, her mother… Sarah clutched her angel tighter. Would he not protect her? Would he not love her?

It seemed he was not one accustomed to giving comfort, for he spoke no words to her as she cried. His hands were brushing her hair. Slowly, his hands moved along different parts of her body and Sarah felt a shock go through her at that. Could she not be brave as she had been before? In the previous nights, she had craved his intimacy. She had craved his touch and his kiss. So much had she thought about it. Did he even still care for her?

The angel spoke, "I shall leave you to dress."

Sarah shook her head fiercely, clutching him tighter to her.

"I shan't go far, my dearest one." He released her from his arms, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it lightly. It sent a great hum through her whole being. Would he not kiss her? Sarah so wanted him to kiss her. "Then I shall show you the castle."

Softly, Sarah nodded, her eyes reaching to his to find his gaze boring into her. Would he kiss her? Sarah was not so naïve to not know what such a gaze meant. For they were entirely alone in this bed chamber, and she was wearing naught but a flimsy shift. Yes, Sarah keenly realized how very little she had on, and it seemed he did as well. He looked at her like he wanted to inhale her, devour her. She wanted him to. So she moved closer in her wanting him to, her fingers grasping the front of his shirt. Her little fingers touched the fine buttons softly. Closer still she came, her figure lightly pressed against his own. Would he not kiss her? Sarah toyed with the buttons, wondering if she could reach inside of him whether she would find that little bit of her that felt missing.

He quieted her thoughts, "I shall be outside, precious one."

In but an instant, he was gone. Like she had not moved towards him, she was gone. Like he had not looked at her like that, he was gone. Her angel, it seemed, was nothing but a riddle. A riddle of a man who had no answer at all. Why did he fly? He wanted her. Sarah knew he wanted her and still he…

She looked to the dress upon the bed. It was beautiful. Everything in this castle was beautiful.

So why was she terrified to move?

Why did he not love her?


	11. Violent Delights

Alfred did not expect to see her smiling.

She'd been so upset this morning (evening?) that he had not anticipated her smiling. He certainly had not anticipated her smiling in the presence of that great monster. Yet now as Alfred saw them together, he could taste the bitterest of wines burning down his throat.

Alfred could see the two of them sitting side by side in the grandiose library. He wanted Sarah to be frightened of the castle's master. He wanted her to be gazing on him in fear, but a smile lit her face as she spoke to him. It seemed she bubbled with whatever she was speaking of and it seemed the monster found it most amusing. Snakes reared in Alfred's stomach, twisting and biting venomously. No, no it could not be. Sarah had to have some feeling for him, she had to. She could not behaved as she had if she did not. Yet there she sat with that beast, talking with him easily and Alfred felt deeply and utterly empty.

That was how he felt: empty. Like everything had been drained from him by Sarah. Not just his blood, but his whole being, and it was clear she did not feel the same. The Count forced a bond upon her, he reminded himself. He'd forced his disgusting blood into her system, forcing their psyches to connect. Forcing Alfred from her mind for good. Oh yes, The Count was a manipulative monster. He was a very smart monster. He was a hunter by nature and Sarah his most desired prey.

Why couldn't he have picked someone else? That beast could have had anyone: he could have picked someone else. Yet that thing had waited years for Sarah, over a decade, and Alfred could not fathom why. He'd spent his whole life studying the supernatural and still could not figure out why. Sarah was beautiful, Alfred knew. Sarah had this light around her that he could not name. Perhaps the monster saw it too. He wanted to keep the light all for himself. He was selfish. Selfish, old, and evil. Why was Sarah smiling at him? Why did Sarah care for him?

"If you promise to cease your brooding, I'll walk you about the grounds." Herbert's voice had startled Alfred from his thoughts. Turning, Alfred saw the man standing a bit too close to him but that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with him. He continued, "And I hope you won't be stupid enough to try to run again. For I am much older than you, Alfred, and I guarantee I will catch you."

"How old are you?" Alfred inquired but the blonde vampire had already begun to walk away. With one final look to Sarah's smile, Alfred turned and followed the son.

He answered, "Four hundred and thirty seven years old." He turned, flashing a fanged smile to Alfred. The flickering candlelight shown upon his smirk. "I was twenty four when I died." They continued down the long corridor. The terrifying corridor. Alfred knew not how anyone could live in so dark and dank a place as this.

Alfred asked, "And your father?"

"Four hundred and fifty two," Herbert answered easily as they continued on their way. Thirty nine, Alfred did the math easily in his mind. Twenty one year's Sarah's senior and still how she smiled at him… Alfred thought of visiting her in her bath. She had not wanted to leave. Sarah had never wanted to leave. She'd gone with them because they'd forced her. She'd kissed him because she'd wanted his blood. Sarah did not love him. Sarah would not love him and yet… And yet how sweetly she'd cried in his arms. Yet there was this string that seemed to bind her heart to his own. Alfred could not just forget Sarah. Alfred could not…

"This way, chéri!" Herbert pushed open a large door into the snow filled outdoors. Alfred was nearly blinded by it, though the sky around them was black as night. The cold did not affect him in the slightest, he soon realized. Alfred stepped out into the snow, and it felt no different than leaves or grass. Even the falling frosty bits did not shake him as they once had.

Herbert smiled, "You won't feel cold anymore. Or heat, come to it. The dead need not bother with such trifles. Now, come on!" The blonde vampire continued and Alfred had little choice but to follow him. As he thought about it, it seemed all Alfred did was follow. He'd followed his school master, than the professor, and now this flamboyant vampire. He supposed he followed Sarah as well. Well, if I've all of eternity ahead of me, I best stop being such a follower.

"Where are we going?" Alfred called through the snow storm.

The vampire answered, "A bit closer to the village, chéri. If you're good, I might show you how to hunt."

**OOO**

Sarah saw hardly anyone all day. Well, she saw Alfred and the son for a moment. She glanced a few others staring at her as she walked. Mostly, she saw The Count. Whose name she learned was Emilian. It felt strange for him to have a name. Of course everyone had a name, but his having one was so odd. He'd always been so otherworldly to her. Otherworldly people, she'd supposed, did not have names.

But his name was Emilian and he was very kind to her. And he was not so scary after a while. Yet still when he came to close, Sarah felt her heart pounding and her whole body shutting down. Then he'd move away from her. Then she would feel empty again. For he still did not seem real to her. He was a fairy story; this was a fairy story. He was an angel, not a man.

She was unsure how long this was to go on. She was unsure why exactly she was here at all. Why she had these pretty dresses. Why he would not leave her alone. She'd followed him about the castle all day like some child, for she knew not where to go or what to do. Sarah could've kicked herself. This had all been ridiculous this dream of hers. How she had craved this castle, this immortality, this man, and now what was she meant to do with all of it? He would not tell her. He would not tell her anything at all.

But he was kind to her. She'd blather on about something ridiculous and he'd smile at stare at her so strangely. Why had she fascinated him? Sarah found nothing about herself to be entirely fascinating. And what was she meant to do? God, how she had dreamt of this! And when she'd dreamt of this, it had been adventure after adventure. Wild passions and wild quests. They'd dance and laugh and have a party every night. Yet this castle was quiet. There were other creatures here, she was sure, but they would not speak to her. Sarah could feel them staring. She knew not why everyone was so fascinated with her.

He'd not really answered any of her questions the whole day. He'd not really told her anything about being what she was. He'd hardly even spoken to her. Then, at the end of the night, he'd kissed her hand and left her by the room to her bedchamber without another word. What was she meant to do? Just sleep? Just sleep and wake up tomorrow in another equally confusing day?

Back to the red and gold bedchamber she went, undoing her gown and finding the whole ordeal rather tedious. Why was she to wear such a beautiful dress if they didn't do anything? Why tie herself up in a corset if she was not even to leave the house? He'd told her not to leave the castle: yes, he'd stressed that many times. Count Emilian Von Krolock was very keen to keep her, but for what purpose he would not reveal.

And it was stupid. It was all ridiculous. They were vampires. Vampires! They should be doing things exciting. Things taboo! Things that no humans could dream of doing! Sarah didn't even know what she could do. Magic, she imagined, but he'd not told her how to do magic. He'd told her his name. He'd told her not to leave. She'd blathered on like some idiot about anything and everything just to fill the silence and he'd told her nothing at all!

To the bed Sarah went, pulling tight the thick curtains around her. The room's windows were planked over, so she assumed she'd be safe from the sun's rays. Unless he wanted her to burn. Maybe this was all some scheme to burn her so he wouldn't have to deal with her anymore. Why go through all this nonsense to keep her and then do nothing with her. Did he care for her at all? What was she meant to be to him? A pet? A lover? A wife? A daughter? Sarah had absolutely no idea.

The nights before the ball… The nights before the ball, Sarah had thought she'd known what he wanted. She'd thought he'd kissed her and she'd known what he wanted. Maybe he had not kissed her at all. Maybe it was all some wild hallucination he'd given her to stay. Now he had her, like some priced porcelain doll, and meant to do nothing but gaze at her. Yes, Sarah gathered she was just some thing to him. Some thing to be left on the shelf and gazed at, but never handled too roughly.

Her mind went empty as she lay upon the bed. Sarah wondered about these other people in the castle. She wondered who they were and how many of them were here. They were here, that she knew. Sarah had felt their eyes upon her. Their eyes always upon her and…

_…understand. Though there is something, I suppose, about her but…beautiful and I'd take one as young as…save us, save me…monsters, beasts and…where is she now…one, two, three…monster…something unnatural…_

Sarah gasped, sitting upon from her bed. Voices. She was hearing voices but not… Not voices they were… Thoughts, Sarah realized in an instant. She was hearing thoughts. Yet whose were they? Suddenly, a thousand of them were filling her ears. A thousand thoughts from a thousand people. Some in languages she could not understand and they needed to stop. How could she make them stop? They were flooding in. Flooding in from all over and Sarah knew not how to make them stop. He'd not taught her how to make them stop and…

There was a hand upon her shoulder. She knew who it was without turning.

"Do you hear that?" Sarah pleaded, her hands grasping absentmindedly at his clothing. Her hand found his shirt as she turned to finally look at him. This was not helping with the growing yearning inside of him. Her innocent eyes staring up at him were not helping either. "I hear voices."

"Yes." He agreed, keenly feeling her little hand upon his chest. "Your hearing is greater now, dear one. You can hear much now."

She shook her head furiously. "No, not this is different. Thoughts. I hear thoughts. Is that normal?"

Again, he eyes gazed up at him and again he was completely enthralled by her. Why on earth had he left her here alone? He should've brought her with him, rested her against him again. She'd gone frightened away from him, and he'd felt ill away from her. When he'd sensed her discomfort, he had come to her side immediately. Why had he left it? He brushed back the hair from her gaze, but her gaze did not stop. Answers. Her insipid answers she wanted for everything.

"For some," he explained. It was mostly the truth. Some could hear thoughts, but he knew not what Sarah could do. He knew there were things peculiar about her. He was not sure what they were yet. "You need not be frightened."

God, he wanted her. He was in hell with the wanting of her. Easily he could have her. Sarah did desire him and so easily he could overpower and... He dismissed the thought immediately. She was frightened. Sarah was frightened by all of this and he'd only frighten her more should he try to be with her. But, God, that would be ages. It could be ages before she moved to want him as he wanted her. So could he not just will it? Could he not just have her?

"I'm not frightened." Sarah brushed his arms away from her rather aggressively. Over him she climbed, pushing away the curtain and standing up in the bedchamber. The sun was nearly risen. The slabs over the windows should keep it out, but the idea of her standing unprotected from its rays was setting deeply in his chest. "Stop thinking I am. I am fine."

"Come back to your bed," he told her. "The sun will be out soon."

He watched as the girl sauntered about the chamber, tiptoeing along the wood in some dreamlike manner. What she was intending, he had no idea, but Sarah was proving to be a most peculiar character. A rather infatuating character, but still a most peculiar one.

She spoke, "It burns us, doesn't it? The sun."

"Yes." He spoke with trepidation, for she had moved near to a window. He rose, "It burns us very badly."

"Keep talking," Sarah requested suddenly. Her strange quest around the room continued. "It…it shuts out the voices. I can't get them to be quiet so just keep talking. How do I get them to be quiet?"

"Sarah-"

The girl huffed, "I don't like the thoughts. I don't like what they are thinking about me. They don't like me. Keep talking."

Thinking about her? They were thinking about her? What were they thinking about her? Damn whatever it was: their opinions were futile. Their opinions were useless. Sarah was placed above them all now and above them all is where she would stay. They must forget their ill opinions of her if they wished to stay in his protection. He watched as Sarah's walking became more rampant, a pacing. A pacing to get these thoughts from her mind. He wished to pluck them from there and uncover the conspirators. He'd kill them all for thinking ill of her.

Sarah snapped. "Why do they all think so ill of me? They all say things about me."

"Do not listen to them." He told her astutely. "You need not heed them. They are beneath you."

It seemed the advice did little to help her. He wished to stand up, to go to her, and in that very instant she snapped. She turned, walking towards him abruptly, a possessed look in her eyes.

"Why did you want me?"

"Sarah-"

"That's what they all wonder: why did you want me?" She blinked, stepping back. "Sorry, I'm sure that was rude. I don't feel much like myself."

He rose, "Hush now…" And Sarah pushed him back so strongly that he fell to the bed again. This seemed to be a night of surprises from her.

"No!" Sarah bellowed, her eyes glowing red. "No, I will not hush!"

He was not used to such disrespect. No, not such disrespect from anyone in his court, or anyone in the village for that matter. One from the court or one from the village would be punished for such an outburst. Even Herbert at his most rebellious would receive some sort of punishment for his behavior and yet Sarah… Von Krolock saw the fear rising in her eyes. Her eyes that looked browner now than red.

"You must," he stated simply. He did not even rise. "The more enraged you become, the more the power grows. You must calm down."

It would be best for him to leave, that he knew. Young vampires were so volatile, and young people were as well. Sarah's dissatisfaction with him was only going to grow. He knew he must be being rather irksome to her. He did not wish to overwhelm her. He did not wish to confuse her when he was not even sure what she was. Yes, there was something peculiar about Sarah. She looked different than the others. The air around her was different than the others. It was like she had changed, but not changed in the way all others did.

She sighed, "They won't stop." He could not leave her.

"Come. Lie down."

The girl heeded his words finally, moving into the spot next to him in her bed. Von Krolock pulled the thick curtains shut, closing out all bits of light from their view. Still he saw her perfectly well in this darkness. Perhaps he even saw her better in it. She was beautiful. Yes, very beautiful, and they were very alone. Yet of course he would not… He would not, but it did not stop the thoughts that passed into his mind. He wondered if she could hear those. For her own sake, he hope she could not.

Easily, he could induce a sleep upon her. If these rampant thoughts she was having did not pass, he could place a sleep upon her rather easily. Let her sleep and then leave her alone as he should. As he should until she had her bearings down.

_Damn that. Have her. She is yours. She would not be here if it were not for your own will. Have her. Pleasure her and caress her for she is yours. Stop masquerading as some hero. You are no hero. You are a villain. Have her. You want her. Have her._

Sarah held tightly to him, as though she could will the thoughts away if she concentrated enough. Which was the exact opposite of what he had said, but she didn't really care anymore. At least he was speaking to her. This was the most he had spoken to her all day. Now his hands brushed back her hair and that felt nice and familiar. That felt like her angel she had dreamt of for years and years. Yes, now that she considered it, this had been for years and year. Soon, she had drifted off to sleep and then-

_...strange to think of and yet...unschuldige Schönheit...he's so small that I...stop, don't stop, stop..monstre dégoûtant...beautiful she is...vile it's vile…_

Why had they started now, anyway, these horrible voices? Why so suddenly did they fill her silence with unending noise? Sarah brought herself tighter against him but it was not working. The voices would not just be quiet. Sarah recognized a few. Alfred, the son, one that sounded like her mother, and one that sounded like her father. They'd all float away before she could make anything out of them. Mother. Sarah missed her mother bitterly. Father too. All of them. All the stupid people at the stupid tavern.

She could not leave. The Count had not told her much, but he'd told her she could not leave.

Sarah wondered if she could hear his thoughts. No voice that had passed through had sounded like his own. Not that she'd heard much of it, mind you. Still, Sarah wondered if she could try. There had to be some sort of way to master this, right? She remembered little of what Maria's father had taught her about vampires, but she remembered that they had control of their powers. They weren't wandering about tormented by them at all hours.

What did he think about her? Sarah gandered this could be quite a useful power if it allowed her to see what he thought about her. If any of this had been real. If any of it had meant anything at...

She sat up, brushing her hair over her shoulder and glancing over to him. He was sleeping. She thought as much. It explained the quiet thoughts and his completely lack of empathy. Well, the later had been prevalent for a while, she imagined. Sarah drew back the curtain then felt his arm reach for her again.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't get it to stop."

"Stay in bed, Sarah. The sun is out. You must rest."

"I don't want to," she groaned, feeling horribly sick again.

"You're hungry," he said and Sarah did not know what he meant. She was not hungry. She had not been hungry since she'd done the awful thing to Alfred and that had certainly not felt like this. "And you're very tired. You must rest, my precious one."

She sniffed, "I'm not tired."

"Stay here with me." He said again and Sarah felt his hand brush down her arm. It sent a shockwave all through her thought she did not want it too. "Stay here with me, dearest one."

Von Krolock slipped his fingers into her own and tried to will her near to him again. The girl was weak from exhaustion, and slid back into the bed easily. And she was so beautiful, was she not? So light and so beautiful with her large eyes and porcelain skin. Sarah sat upon the bed, her back on the headboard and stared off into the thick curtains. He slid the one she'd opened shut, but the girl caught him before he could move away from her.

"Why did you want me?" She asked abruptly. Her large eyes were staring at him as he halted in front of her. It seemed she would not be satisfied with silence.

He sighed, "Sarah-"

"No," she grasped his shirt. Sarah thought it strange to seem him so casually dressed. She had not considered how very strange that was until this moment. Her fingers grasped the fabric of his clothes until he was very near to her. He wanted her, she knew that. Sarah was not an idiot nor was she a child. She knew what this man wanted of her. Perhaps she could use it as some leverage to get him to fucking speak.

Sarah breathed, "No. Answer me. If I'm to stay her forever and ever, you, at the very least, could answer me."

"Darling..."

"Why?" She sat up but did not break the breath of a space between then. Her thoughts went to her mother's words for a moment. Her mother's words that she was tempting a devil. Tempting and teasing a vampire. Sarah had known that was just a vicious lie, but now saw some merit in it. Yes, she was tempting a vampire. She was teasing a vampire. It if worked, perhaps she'd get her answers.

He breathed, "You fascinate me."

Sarah was unsure if that was truthful, but a large part of her had stopped caring. It was odd that he was so near to her. Stranger still that she liked it so much. It sent a very hot flame up from the pit of her chest. He was just an inch away from her. Closer still. It did not frighten her like it should to have him so closer. And he just kept staring. Why was he always staring?

"Would you like me to leave?"

Sarah kissed him. She kissed him and the voices ceased immediately. A new and different voice overtook her mind, but this one was not as frightening as the others had been. This one was entirely new and entirely alluring. It spoke to her in languages she did not know and yet she understood. This was a wonderful voice. And it guided her as they kissed and it guided her further.

They did not stop kissing for a long time.

**OOO**

"I feel ill," the boy groaned as he pressed his head into the lining of the coffin. Perhaps Herbert should've given Alfred his own place to sleep, but after tonight it felt unwise to leave him alone. The boy had been rather shaken by his own newfound nature. It was best to keep him near, where he couldn't drive a stake through his own heart.

Herbert tisked, "I told you not to drink form drunkards."

"There was no one else around!" The boy insisted, groaning again in his agony. It was ripping at Herbert's heart, it truly was, but it was the fiendish bit delightful. Herbert had not taken a new vampire under his wing in…in a very long time. Alfred was proving to be most amusing. Even if he was prone to be morose. And spent all his time brooding over Sarah.

"I didn't even want to be like this." Alfred continued in his woe-is-me attitude. "I hate this. I hated that."

"Well, you should've stayed away from our little tart and then perhaps you'd have a different fate."

A bad thing to say, certainly, for Alfred groaned at the notion of Sarah again. Herbert had thought hunting might make Alfred more jovial. Might make him forget about the girl. It seemed to only make him worse, and the drink was only making him more emotional. Alfred needed to forget the girl if he wanted any chance of a decent life. For father was… father was not one for sharing. He certainly wouldn't share the girl. Herbert would not be the least bit surprised if father kept her locked in a room and away from view. His obsession with her was…unhealthy. Deity-like. No doubt that all would be kept from her. She'd be locked away. His own personal little pet.

Herbert huffed at his cynical thoughts. His thought were always so cynical. Perhaps that's what comes after four hundred years of life. And here he was berating Alfred for his own negativity.

Herbert sighed, "We'll try again tomorrow. Find you some beautiful, young virgin without a drop of drink in her veins."

"Don't say drink…" Alfred whined, his hands clasping his stomach. "How is it so much worse now?"

"It's in your blood, dear. It's the most acute sort of poisoning."

Alfred groaned again, tossing to his side in his self-pity. Herbert wanted to tell him to 'chin-up' but couldn't think of the right way to say it so he stayed lying upon his back. He wondered if the boy would truly ever forget about the girl. Even if he was not… That is to say, even if he only ever saw Herbert as a friend that would be a welcome change. They so rarely got anyone in the castle who was the least bit interesting. The girl seemed amusing, but again, Herbert knew father would not share her.

"Why isn't he down here?" Alfred asked suddenly. He nodded towards the other coffin.

Herbert clicked his tongue, "There's hundreds of rooms in the castle. Perhaps a change of scenery."

"He's with her, isn't he?"

"Oh, I don't know, Alfred," Herbert snapped. "But I gander that's not too farfetched of a guess."

The boy groaned again.

Herbert huffed, "Really, Alfred, you're getting to be drool about this whole thing. The girl is gone: move past it."

Alfred was unmoved by this statement. Herbert figured as much.

"Now, sleep, else you get ill. Mind you, if you get ill in my coffin I will have you clean it up."

Alfred said nothing, but tossed further onto his side away from Herbert. Good, Herbert did not wish to talk to him anymore regardless. The boy was brooding and annoying and a complete mess of emotions. A complete mess that Herbert did not have to take control of. He could leave him to the dogs. He could have father send him away as father had intended to do.

But he looked so sweet as he slept. Young vampires were rather intriguing, Herbert realized. He'd always found them irritating but Alfred was not too horrible. Not at all. And maybe, in time, he-

No. No, the thought was ridiculous. Now who's being fanciful?

He would brood no more. Herbert drifted to sleep not long after his friend.

He wondered what Alfred dreamt about.


	12. Out There is Freedom

They were upset.

Rebecca gathered as much, but their pain did not amount to her own. It could not amount to her own. For she had had her own heart ripped out from her and smeared across the ground. She'd done it herself. She had inflicted these wounds with her own hands. Had she not just listened, had she not just been more attentive, none of this would have happened. They were always too lenient with Sarah. Rebecca had thought they had reared her, but deep down she knew, she knew they'd always been too lenient.

This disgusting obsession. This unholy favor she'd always had towards those things. When she was younger (even as a child, she'd been so beautiful) she'd ask about the vampires. She wanted to see the castle. She'd sing strange songs Rebecca had not taught her and she'd assumed she'd learned from friends had they been… Had they been from him? Had he been corrupting her all those years and they had not known it? How could she had known it? How could…

They would all cease speaking when Rebecca walked near to them. Those who inhabited the tavern would not say a word to her now. They'd put up more garlic, they'd hung more crosses, but none of them did anything. None of them said anything. The Count never took from the village, and he'd taken two in one night. And they'd taken Sarah. They'd not taken some baudy woman who'd found their favor: they'd taken Sarah. No one was safe now, least of all Rebecca.

"…sounds romantic," Rebecca heard a small voice muse. Three little ones were sitting at a table, an unpleasant face the only adult among them. Annabelle, the gypsy woman, was smiling at them like a serpent.

"She is a very special girl," Annabelle responded. Rebecca's blood was boiling. Special? Special to be courted and gutted by that beast? No, not gutted, no. No doubt she was just the same as he was now, for the boy and the professor had not returned. Were they gone now too?

"Get out of my inn," Rebecca said coldly. The gypsy's expression did not change. "I don't want the likes of you here."

"Now, Madame Chagal," Annabelle began. "I wouldn't be so cross if I were you. This is not a funeral, but a baptism. A birth to a new life."

"Get out!" Rebecca barked loud enough for the entire bar to hear. There were tears in her eyes. No doubt they all could see the tears in her eyes but damn them all the same. Let them see her cry, they'd discuss her regardless.

Annabelle stood. Annabelle seemed a hundred feet taller than Rebecca when she stood before her. She seemed infinitely younger, yet infinitely older all at the same time. This woman was something not human, Rebecca knew that. Perhaps she herself was in league with the vampires. Yes, Rebecca imagined as much.

"Be wise, Rebecca Chagal," the gypsy warned. "Be very wise."

**OOO**

Sarah thought for certain that there was no better thing in this world than a hot, hot bath. She supposed she liked them hotter now, for feelings of temperature were strange and equal parts keener and less keen than they ever were. That made little sense, but a lot of this made little sense. Most of this made little sense. It made little sense to be awoken by Alana in the night time to find and empty bed and whole plan set out for her. Sarah was to bathe, be dressed, and then meander about the castle until morning. No leaving. No going to the village. The master of the castle was nowhere to be seen, but Sarah knew he had given the orders.

He was not there when she awoke. She had not noticed when he left. There was no sign he had been there at all. It could've been a dream, another one of her strange dreams, if it were not from the discomfort between her legs and the aching on her neck. Both had been bizarre but neither one entirely unpleasant. It had felt like he loved her. Sarah knew many people who did that did not love each other, but it had felt like he loved her. Yet now he was gone and Sarah was unsure again.

It did not matter, she decided. It did not have to matter. The bath was warm and luxurious and that was all that mattered for the moment. Her mind kept wondering where he had gone but she knew that was just another thing she would not receive an answer to. Her whole life was becoming filled with questions she would not receive answers to.

At least her hunger had been sated and her mind put at ease. The voices that had tormented her had grown quiet since the previous morning. Emilian had offered her his blood. 'I will sustain you,' he had said. Sarah had not even known that a possibility, but the blood had been red and warm and she had wanted it so she took it from his wrist without consideration. He had pet her and called her sweet names and Sarah did not care about the bizzarity of anything. She loved him. It had felt like she loved him.

"Where has he gone?" Sarah asked when Alana came to fetch her from the bath. The woman draped a robe about Sarah and brought her back to her bedchamber.

Alana spoke, "He's business to attend to, mistress. You needn't worry yourself with it."

Sarah sat at her vanity, "What am I to do then? What am I to do while he is gone?"

"Well, whatever you will, I suppose, mistress." Alana set about combing Sarah's hair. She thought perhaps it was going to be done up again like it had been for the ball, but Alana left it down save for a few pieces she pinned back. Sarah thought she looked rather plain to be a princess. "But you must not leave the grounds, mistress. He was very strict about that."

_Of course,_ Sarah thought to herself. On that note he was unchanging. Oh, Sarah understood him not. She did not understand this angel, this man, who had brought her here and now seemed to have some plan with her she could not comprehend. What did he want? Or, more importantly, what did she want? Sarah did not even know that. Not even so miniscule of a thing did she know.

But nevermind it. After Sarah was dressed and primped like some little doll, she was left alone to her own devices. A thing I am accustomed to, she reminded herself plainly. In the vanity mirror, there was no one reflected. Sarah found that the oddest thing. She pressed her hand against the cold glass and found nothing to greet her there. It seemed there were a plethora of peculiarities to discover.

Sarah stood up from the vanity in a dress far too fine for her to just sit about. It was a green gown as deep as emerald with dark lace accents. Another beautiful piece left for her for unknown reasons. Well, she knew part of the reason, she supposed, after last night. Thinking of it that way made her feel sick, but she supposed she sort of always felt sick now.

Damn it, damn it, damn it: she was drowning in this castle. Sarah could not breathe in this spacious façade. Last night had been….she was not even sure. She'd thought it had been nice. It had felt like he'd loved her. Or at least cared for her. But then he was gone and she… Sarah didn't know anything at all about this man.

Damn him, then, Sarah thought was a mischievous grin. The castle was lovely, she supposed. She took to wandering about it as though it were her own. As though she were Countess of it all and it was all her domain. Sarah wondered where all those other creatures might live. Down in the crypt she imagined, though she did not know why. Not the family crypt, of course, that was only for… How on Earth did she know all this? Something about the blood she supposed. It was always something peculiar with the blood. She was a part of his bloodline now. Maybe she was a Countess. Unless they were all created by him then… No, no, there were few that were his. Well, there were few that were his like she was his.

At least she felt not as frightened today. Yes, everything was far clearer today. And those rampant thoughts she'd heard had silenced and not yet reappeared. Sarah wondered why they had appeared in the first place. Another answer she supposed she would not be getting so soon. Especially not with him gone… Where had he gone? Sarah thought that she could reach out and find him with her mind of her soul, but even if she could she knew not how. And she also knew not why he would just…

There had to be others in the castle. There was Alfred, of course. Alana as well. The Count's son, whom she had only seen very briefly. God, that was going to be horribly uncomfortable, was it not? Sarah tried not to think much on it as she continued to roam the great monolith of a building. Eventually, she stumbled into the ballroom again and found it not as romantic as she had remembered it. It seemed smaller without all the people and the candles. It seemed less… It just seemed less.

She continued. She found the places she had found on the first night. That had been just a few days prior. It felt like eons ago. She was a different person then, she figured. An entirely different person. Yet Sarah too was not entirely sure who she was now.

"Miss Chagal!"

Her heart nearly jumped at the name. No one here had called her that, not even once. Sarah turned and for a moment thought the man before her was a different one. Their statures were similar, that was true. As were the builds and general structure. But this man was feminine in a way that his father was not. She moved her eyes upward, for he was standing rather closely and found him smiling at her the way she imagined a cat would smile at someone.

"You look truly radiant, my dear." He took her hand and kissed it, his red eyes locking on her and not leaving them. "How are you fairing? Is father being dreadful?"

"I…" She stammered but forced herself to be poised. "I am well. And your father is not dreadful."

"Maybe," the man teased. "Though I don't know where he is currently. Do you?"

Sarah shook her head that she did not.

"Well, you mustn't take to wandering like a lost kitten." He took her hand like how a playmate would and led her beside him. "You've all the time in the world now, don't you, _chéri_?"

"I suppose," Sarah responded. She felt strangely comfortable with this man but still remained unsure as to why he was being so kind to her. "I just… Haven't the faintest what to do."

"Whatever you will," he told her. "Though I know that hardly a helpful suggestion. Tell me: what did you want to do before you became what you are now? What did you want?"

Sarah stopped. What had she wanted? This. She'd wanted this. She'd wanted the castle and the vampire and the ball and the pretty dresses. Now she had a castle that felt like a prison, a vampire who was cold and aloof, a ball that had been a nightmare, and far too many dresses than she could wear. She had wanted… She had wanted adventure. Yes, adventure and sweeping romance. She wanted to be kissed while in a beautiful gown on a hill overlooking the sea. She wanted to go on daring expeditions and learn magic and… God, she sounded like a babe. She was a babe.

He smiled like he knew, "I know father does not wish you leaving the ground, but the grounds are extensive and you could see them if you liked."

"I could?" Sarah asked. She'd not been outside since Alfred dragged her away. She'd never even seen the land behind the castle for they'd never been allowed upon the grounds. Yes, that could be lovely. And it was snowing. Sarah did love the snow.

"Of course," the son told her. "Just don't leave the grounds. Father will be terribly cross about it and he's dreadful when he's cross, believe me."

Sarah did and thanked him with a smile. With a gentlemanly goodbye he went away and Sarah knew not where. The grounds. She'd not considered the grounds. Yes, The Count had told her to stay put but she supposed the grounds were still "put". No, he said not to go outside, she corrected. Well, damn him, he wasn't here regardless. No, Sarah would go outside. She would have a bit of adventure.

If she were meant to be locked away forever, she would have a bit of adventure.


	13. Akin

He'd taken Alfred on a whole tour of the castle since the girl had gone outside and (hopefully) would be keeping her distance. Herbert supposed it wasn't a completely sound plan for keeping the girl at bay, but it was about the only thing he could think of. If Sarah so much as came into Alfred's peripheral vision, he'd obsess and brood about her for the remainder of the night. Herbert could simply not see the veneration of this girl. Especially a girl that would certainly never be Alfred's.

So Herbert decided to make Alfred his new project and clear the boy's pretty brain of any thoughts of that girl. He'd had Alfred put new blood in his body to perhaps rid him of any stain. Now he was going to take to elaborate distractions. He was also going to take to a fun game of keep away in which Alfred would not be allowed to come into contact with the girl at all. It would've been easier if father were here but… Herbert had no idea where his father had flown off to. His sudden disappearance had left his little pet rather perplexed.

Herbert's father hadn't the faintest idea of how to deal with anyone so Herbert was unsurprised. No doubt the girl had anticipated some suave, romantic hero. Herbert could laugh at how ridiculous a notion that was.

"…here's the dungeon. We don't typically use these." Herbert had begun their tour by walking deeper beneath the castle. He flashed a mischievous smile. "Unless, of course, you're looking to have real fun."

Alfred was unamused by the quip as he often was. Herbert was not affected by it: he was very accustomed to people who were unamused with him. It took him years to come to the fact that his father did like him: his general demeanor was just to appear unmoved. Perhaps Alfred was that way too. Even in his human form, Alfred did always seem aloof and sullen.

"Where do you come from, Alfred?" Herbert asked as they walked from the dark cells of the castles. The silence between them had been deafening.

The boy sniffed, "What?"

"Where do you come from?" Herbert repeated. He turned back to face the boy, the dim candles lining the hall illuminating his face. "Before you traveled here to hunt vampires and kill werewolves."

"Werewolves don't exist," the boy began and it made Herbert smile for some reason. They continued on their way. "And I come from England."

"England?" Herbert said eagerly. He'd been with very few Englishmen. He wasn't sure why he thought that. "How did you wind up in Transylvania, Mon Chéri?"

The boy didn't answer for a moment and Herbert thought he would not. They continued on the black and bleak corridor, heading into another crypt that was currently empty. A few lost souls that had come for the ball had rested here, but now the room was quite deserted.

"My parents died when I was young," Alfred said eventually. Herbert stopped, turning towards the boy. "So it was either be an apprentice—a scholar—or be nothing at all. No one wanted to take on an orphan with no prospects, so I ended up studying the supernatural with Professor Abronsius. I didn't think any of it was real, really, until…"

Alfred didn't finish the sentence, shuffling on his feet and brushing his fingers in his hair.

Herbert prompted, "Until?"

"I had a friend named Sam. He was…" Alfred didn't finish that thought. "He became friends with some else. The someone else was a vampire and before I even knew what was going on, Sam was changed into one too."

Herbert wanted to say something, but it seemed the boy was not finished.

"He… Professor Abronsius wanted me to kill him. We found their resting spot. I didn't tell the Professor that I knew him or he was my friend. I thought he'd—he'd be upset with me. But when we reached the place, I could not do it. Not to either of them. So the Professor did it. He just assumed it was because I was young and inexperienced and I didn't tell him any different. But I couldn't do it because he was my friend."

"Oh, Chéri -"

Alfred put up a hand, "Don't touch me. Please." He balked away, brushing his blonde hair back with his pale and calloused fingers. Herbert thought it so wonderful that Alfred had calloused hands. Everyone he knew had hands long and pristine. Alfred's were short and full of manges and rough edges. He sighed, "But, anyway, I'm from England. It was the Professor's idea to come here but no doubt…"

Herbert prompted, "No doubt?"

"No doubt he's dead now, isn't he?"

He was not sure what to say to that so he said nothing at all. It would be logical to assume the old man was dead now. Herbert's father would not want the man alive after what he'd seen. He'd seen far too much. No, Herbert's father would not want that man alive at all. Especially with Sarah… Sarah, he thought of seeing her in the ballroom. Like a lost little doll she'd looked, all beautified with nothing at all to do. He knew not where his father had gone but he found the idea of the girl alone to not be a promising one.

Alfred shifted, "Never mind. That was rude, I'm sorry."

"It's no matter, my friend," Herbert answered with a smile. "Now, let's on to our tour. We haven't even seen any of the good bits yet."

Though the air was slightly thicker between then, yet somehow clearer all the same. A friend named Sam. Herbert wondered selfishly if this friend had been more than a friend but knew that to be madness. He just wanted Alfred to… To not hate him. To not be frightened of him. He was going to be his friend. Yes, the best of friends.

So they continued on. They saw not Sarah all day. Alfred made no mention of her.

**OOO**

Her father. Sarah could not believe it. Her father, here. Her father turned to be like her and The Count had said nothing of it. No, The Count had not even mentioned it to her and now Sarah was…not breathing. Sarah was lying against a tree and not breathing yet she would not die. _You, idiot, you cannot die._ The ground was cold and wet from the snow and no doubt she was ruining the dress but damn the dress and damn The Count. How could he not have told her that? Her father. Her own father was here and her mother…

"Oh, mama," Sarah whimpered to the empty winter air. Her mama left completely alone now. Sarah had had her consolation that at least mama and papa would have each other but there was no comfort now. Father was here with that awful maid and now Mama was alone. And Sarah's father had barely even spoken to her. He didn't even make eye contact with her.

"Papa?" She had asked, taking his hand in her's. He'd been out upon the grounds with Magda. They'd been going to hunt. Magda had lowered her head when Sarah came near. Her papa… Her papa… "Papa, why won't you look at me?"

"Sarah, my dear," he said softly. "Things are different now. Things are not as they once were."

"What do you mean?" She asked desperately. Not as they once were? It was like…it was like he did not want to be her papa anymore.

"When I was bitten," he began, "things were changed. I was changed. The same happened to you. Our blood is different now, my dear. Our loyalties…"

"Loyalties?" Sarah immediately inquired. Her papa seemed to shrink at her words. Her papa was frightened of her. That was silly: how could he be frightened of her? Blood—it always went back to blood. Sarah knew not how any of this worked. Not that The Count had explained anything. Not that he would ever explain anything.

Her papa straightened, "You don't need me anymore, Sarah. Things are different with what we are."

"I-I don't understand," Sarah stammered. There were tears forming in her eyes. The air was so bitter that they nearly seemed to freeze there. Would he not look at her? Would anyone speak to her? Even The Count had ignored her questions, ignored her pleas. Now he had left her all alone without so much as a word. "Papa, what do you mean?"

Yet even as she cried, her father seemed unmoved by her tears. Magda was looking like she'd rather Sarah would just go away. _Go to where?_ Sarah mused cynically to herself. There was nowhere for Sarah to run to now. There was no magical castle to which she could escape. Sarah was lost. Completely adrift and lost and even her father would not look at her.

Her papa breathed, his red eyes finally looking up to her. No doubt she looked silly, all dressed like a pretty doll and standing in the snow.

"You are his now, dear, not mine. Things are different now."

_Things are different now,_ the words pounding in Sarah's mind as snow from the tree fell into her eyes. _I don't belong to anyone,_ Sarah thought defiantly. It was a lie. When he'd come to ask her to the ball, he'd asked her to be his and she agreed so Sarah supposed… _But he's not my papa,_ Sarah thought fervently. _I still need my papa._ Though in some twisted way, she supposed he was like a father now. He had created her. She had his blood and-

She was going to be sick. Sarah's head reeled as she lay in the freezing snow, which only felt wet to her now. She missed the cold. It was silly thing to miss, but she missed it. And she missed Mama. Oh poor Mama. Poor Mama left alone in the inn with no one to help her. Father had abandoned her. You have abandoned her, Sarah reminded herself. Sarah had left everything for her dream life and now… Now, what was this dream?

The last morning had been… It had been different. It had felt like her dream. Like her happy dream of love and magic but then he was gone. Gone without a word and Sarah's mind was turning with all of it. He'd kissed her and touched her and everything had seemed fine and good and then he was gone. He didn't like speaking to her. He didn't like her. Was that all he had wanted? Just that and now she was forgotten. No long a princess was she. No longer anything.

Sarah looked at her stupid gown. It was rather atrocious with its emerald color and overt black lace. No, she did not want to wear this dress anymore. She tore at the bodice until it was gone. She undid the skirts. Sarah hung it from a branch of a tree until she stood in just her shift. It made her feel like she was more herself, at least. It made her feel less like some terrible doll.

So she walked. She wondered if she would see Alfred but figured seeing Alfred would not make her feel any better than before. Wandering the grounds, however extensive, made her feel like some lonely lost ghoul.

That was when she decided to wander further. She'd been strictly instructed not to, but what was Count Von Krolock to her now? He didn't really care, did he? No, not truly. She was just some doll to him. She was a pretty thing to add to his collection of other pretty things. Nothing mattered. None of it mattered. Rules or not, Sarah wandered further than she was meant to. She wandered down the Cliffside and further until she saw the lights of her home. A wave of wonderful nostalgia came over her as she gazed at the lights. Home. She was so close to it. It had not been a good home, but it had been her home. How funny to be sitting at the place she'd gazed at longingly for so long only to be gazing back at her home.

Feeling very daring, Sarah wandered further. An excitement she had not felt for days trickled up her spine and into her brain. Yes, that wonderful excitement like sneaking down the stairs while your parents are sleeping. An excitement like a red blanket she kept hidden from view. Sarah had no red blanket upon her now but felt that same wonder regardless. On she continued, that wonderful rebellion growing brighter in her chest. He'd never find her and he'd never know. Sarah walked until she was in the town she'd left not three days ago.

The street was empty, as it always was after dark. No doubt everyone was huddled in the inn, drunk and merry. Yet when Sarah came near to it, she saw not smiling faces inside. Sarah moved closer to the window, for it had frosted and all she could make out was dim figures. Yes, hardly anyone seemed merry in her pub.

There was her mother. Sarah's heart seized up in her chest at the sight of her. Oh, she was a shallow version of the woman she had been. Her cheeks were gaunt, her eyes were filled with water. She moved about absentmindedly. Mama, oh mama, Sarah wanted to bang upon the window. Why couldn't she? Maybe she was changed, but maybe her mama would want her back. No one at the castle wanted her. Her papa would not even look at her if mama would just look at her Sarah would-

"I told you not to leave the castle."

Sarah could only mutter a gasp. She jerked to free her arm from the tight grip around it but found the person holding her to be much stronger. The tears that had been filling her eyes began to fall. They seemed to turn to dust in the cold air.

"But mama is…" was all she could whimper.

"You cannot come back here, Sarah." The voice was terrifying in her ear. "Not ever." He breathed, "With me. Now."

She wanted to say something, wanted to explain herself, but he held her and started moving so quickly that she had to keep up. Here he was, back and as strangely domineering as ever. His cloak moved beside her as he led her back to the castle. She did not like being led like some child, but he was angry and she knew that. Would he strike her? Papa would always strike her. Sarah imagined it would string more if she were struck by The Count.

They entered back into the castle and Sarah stumbled forward in her wet clothes. He pulled gloves off his long hands and cast them to the ground. Barely could Sarah see from her tears and the stinging snow but still he pushed her forward until-

"Stop it!" She yelled. In her head it sounded powerful but aloud it sounded so terribly meek. Sarah sniffed loudly, raising her hands to wipe at her wet and stinging face. "Just stop."

"I told you not to leave the grounds."

"I know."

"You disobeyed me."

"Yes," Sarah hissed and felt some power in it. Her eyes met his and for a moment she was not afraid. "You were gone. Why did you leave?"

The words seemed to soften him, if anything in him could soften. Something in him was more somber at the very least and for whatever reason she thought of how they had been not hours ago. He had been so sweet to her. He'd touched her like she was something precious, he'd told her that she was. It had seemed like he loved her and now… Her stomach was churning. He moved forward like he meant to touch her but Sarah could not allow that.

She changed the subject. "I wanted to see my mama."

He huffed, "Sarah-"

"You didn't tell me papa was here." Her voice was breaking as was whatever small bit of strength she had mustered. She'd meant for the talking about her parents to be a distraction but it was seeming to only make matters worse. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"You're getting upset," he said like how one speaks to an ill-tempered child. Sarah balked when he came nearer. Maybe that upset him further but Sarah would not look at him. She did not understand how someone could be so wonderful then so cross and then so sad. A strange part of her wanted him to yell at her, to scream at her. To stop being so understanding of everything she did. Like a child. He treated her how ones treats a child.

_Perhaps he regrets what he did,_ hissed a voice in her ear. _He regrets making love to you and kissing you and touching you: he regrets it all. Like your father said, things were different now. The Count no longer wants you as he once did. You are just a pet to him now. You are just a child._

He finally spoke, "To your bedchamber, Sarah. It's nearly dawn."

An order. How fitting.

"No, it isn't!" Sarah insisted, her face filling with flush. "It's not hours yet til dawn! You cannot just lock me away when you don't want to speak to me anymore! You can't just-"

"I can't what, Sarah?" He said in that quiet way adults would do to frighten you into submission. Her bottom lip she clenched as the man stalked nearer to her. You can't just stop being my angel, Sarah wanted to scream to him. _You cannot tell me you are a dream and then prove yourself a nightmare. A horribly confusing nightmare from which I want to wake up._

She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not cry.

"Lock me away." Sarah spoke with all the fire she could muster. "I don't want to be locked away. You didn't tell me you were going to lock me away."

"I don't want you killed," he responded with a voice devoid of warmth. She supposed those words could've been sweet if his voice were warm. "You've been gone less than a week, Sarah. I was reckless in taking you. Yours is an absence that will not go unnoticed and they will be upset about it. Upset people are dangerous, far more so if they are desperate. I know about these things, Sarah. I've seen them thousands of times so you must listen to me."

There was something desperate in his voice that she yearned for: something like love. He spoke the words so coolly and logically but moved closer as she said them. Some deep shame she had not yet considered was rising from her abdomen and up her spine. Sarah wanted to fight but couldn't think of anything to say to him. She had run away. She had disobeyed him. Certainly, she had wanted to see her mama but… But she'd also wanted this. She'd wanted a rise from Emilian. With a rise, perhaps she'd get a word. Perhaps she'd get an answer. Perhaps she'd get something from him that could help her understand all of this awful mess that was her life.

But she had not considered… Had not considered he might be hurt. _He hurt me too,_ Sarah pressed fervently. _He was just gone. Just gone without a word._

"You could have been killed," he impressed upon her. "They would have killed you had they seen you." Something in him changed. "You disobeyed me."

The words stuck like daggers upon her skin. Sarah was under no impression that he meant to strike her, but his words struck a blow no hand ever could. She had, she had disobeyed him. Not that he hadn't deserved it, but Sarah had disobeyed him. And perhaps she was simply searching for it, but she thought she noticed some hurt in his voice. Sarah thought she noticed some pain.

"I'm sorry," Sarah relented after a long moment. Her eyes had not met his for some long time so she took to studying his shoes. They were muddied; he'd been in the village. Of course Sarah had known that, but she wondered why he'd been there at all. She looked up and saw his hands hanging by his side. That for some reason made her think of the previous morning and thinking of that made her flush again and mingled these feelings with those.

The Count sighed, "To your bedchamber, Sarah. Do not disobey me this time."

So she went, no longer feeling such ardor to flee.

**OOO**

The old man was dead.

Emilian Von Krolock had found the old professor alone and several miles from the village. He was more than half dead already, having starved himself in his self-impressed exile from the village. Emilian couldn't fathom why the man was dong such a thing. Perhaps he had gone mad. It would be unsurprising if he had. Von Krolock had sent out others to find him days ago, but it seemed none of them had been quite up to the task.

Emilian killed him easily. It was not difficult to take a life. A quick snap of the neck and Professor Abronsius was no more. He did not feel remorse for it either. Perhaps he should have, but he did not.

Murdering, at one point, had had an exhilaration behind it, but now Emilian felt little when he took a life. He felt little if he did it with blood or without it. Blood was a means to an end. Death was a means to an end: it did not evoke any feeling from within. Very little at all evoked feeling from Von Krolock. He could set on charm easily, but that was all it was: a charm, an illusion. It was not at all real.

But Sarah was… He should have been more upset with her. She'd blatantly disobeyed him and he'd only give her one rule! Stay in the castle. He'd given her everything and she could not obey just one restriction.

He should not have gone away this morning. This whole mess could have been avoided if he had just not gone away. How could he have just left her there? She had looked so sweet lying there. He'd wanted to stay. He'd wanted to stay and engulf her in his arm and himself in her skin and beautiful curls. She had been all he'd imagined when they'd made love. He'd wanted to have her again. To stay in the bed with her and have her again and not leave her and-

This feeling was not love. He was not pure enough to feel something like love and yet the girl was… Damn it all. He'd ruined it all by lying with her. _No, you ruined it all by changing her. No, you ruined it all by choosing her. You do not love her. Had you loved her, you would have let her live. Had you loved her at all, you would not have orchestrated her damnation._

She had tried to run. Sarah had wanted to leave him. Sarah wanted to leave him. Could he blame her?

Damn it all, he did not want to be brooding upon this. The fickle feelings of a young girl, a young vampire, should be not obsessing him. The young were always like this, it mattered not. Sarah would not leave again. The girl could not survive upon her own.

_You can't lock me away,_ she had pleaded. He hadn't meant to… Yes, he had. Did she not know how dangerous it was to be as they are? Did she not know they'd try to kill her, to maim her? To take her away from him… He was selfish. He wanted to keep her like a secret. If she were just tucked away. If no one saw her, came near her, just him, he'd make sure she was safe and fed and comforted and… It did sound like she were just a pet. Damn it. Damn it all.

He found her lying upon her bed in the room he had set aside for her. The girl had not even bothered to shut the curtains; perhaps it was because she'd believed he'd come or perhaps she'd left them open in a spiteful way. She looked so beautifully forlorn lying there all upon her own. She did not face him; her curls lay behind her like a lake of auburn. Perhaps he should leave her there. It would be best to leave her there. Going to her bed had proved a mistake. He should have known better than to make such a mistake. Sarah was not like Elisabeth. Sarah would require love. Just as the woman had said.

A gypsy. A gypsy had seen him in the village. The gypsies were always better at spotting his kind and seemed to always think it pertinent to say a vague prophecy as they passed by. The woman had spoken of love, speaking that he need love or all would perish. Some ridiculously sentimental, nonsensical nonsense but… Perhaps…

He lie beside Sarah and brushed the hair away from her porcelain neck. And damn what he told himself to feel, he was still so enamored with her. He wanted her blood again, her body, her soft lips, and gentle touch. Sarah was awake, but moved not to speak to him. Perhaps she expected him to say something. He knew not what to say to her. What about a little girl could frighten him so terribly?

Sarah spoke, "I'm not going to run away again. If that's what you've come to tell me."

"I've not come to tell you anything."

"You haven't?" The girl asked in a slightly bitter tone. "All right." She was still upset. Girls and young vampires were fickle, he knew that, and yet he wanted to calm her. To reassure her. To…

"I'm sorry," he said. They were not words he spoke often. He could not remember the last time he had said them. Before he could say anything more, Sarah began to speak.

"Do you regret it?" She said suddenly. Sarah was not one to ease into any subject. "Do you regret…what we did and…and all of it? Do you wish I weren't here? It would be easier, wouldn't it, if I were not here."

"Sarah-"

"I've caused all sorts of problems. I can't even follow rules and I tried to run away and you do not like me-"

"Hush," He said while brushing back her hair. Her breaths were heavy and strained like how they'd be before tears and yet Sarah was not crying. For so many years he'd considered what the feeling of holding her as she cried would be. He'd see her lying so forlorn in her bed after her father had struck her and wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. He'd wanted that so very badly.

"I regret nothing," he told her softly. Her breaths were slowly calming. "I regret nothing about you, Sarah. You mustn't make yourself upset."

She sniffed, "I can't even think straight. Everything is so strange now."

"Hush," he told her again. "You need not worry about anything, Sarah. I shall take care of it all. Rest now."

Sarah turned, lying so that she was close against him. He held her and spoke things to her softly as eventually she drifted to sleep. He should not be so affected by her. He had not anticipated being so affected by her. He was not sure what he was feeling or for what reason and he knew not what to name it. So he thought not about it and drifted to sleep himself. Things would sort themselves out. Things would go back to how they were meant to be.

He knew not what he was feeling.


	14. Release

On days passed and things remained erroneously peculiar in the castle on the hill.

New powers and abilities arose in Sarah every day and Emilian would show her how to use them and on their time would pass. When it was time to rest, they'd share her bed or his coffin but never did he touch her. Never did he kiss her or make any sign he desired her at all. Maybe he did not. Maybe that night had been a fluke and those kisses had just been to trick her into staying. But it hadn't felt a trick. And she did so love her castle. She adored her new life. If only he weren't so…

Everyone else was fine. There were others in the castle, Sarah knew there must be, and she came to make their acquaintance. Others too, who did not live with them, would come to the castle to discuss business matters but Sarah never got to see these meetings. Yet afterward there would be a dinner (it was the only word Sarah could think to describe it) where they sat around a table and drank blood from goblets while their visitors would chat about the wonderful places they had traveled and Sarah would die in envy of it. She so wanted to travel the world. Very often she'd say so but Emilian never said anything about it. He was odd and aloof as usual.

Yet she always sat by his side, as one's wife would sit by their side, and that always made her feel a bit brighter. The son would be at these dinners and often Alfred as well, though Alfred's infatuation with her seemed to have faded. Or perhaps he did not wish to show it anymore. Oddly enough, the lack of attention put a hole in Sarah's chest though she was not sure why. Alfred seemed hardly joyful about anything anymore.

When these dinners were over, the guests would kiss Sarah's cheeks and tell her she was beautiful or something of the like and then go. The Count would take her to bed or his coffin and they'd lie by one another but there was never anything more. Why was there never anything more? Had she upset him? Sarah could not think of what she'd done to deserve such a punishment. He brushed her skin or place his face in her hair but never tried to kiss her. Never tried to slake any desires upon her or even speak to her. She was like a toy, like a doll, that one leaned into for comfort but would eventually discard.

In the mornings, things were usual. She'd set about her day. Sarah liked to walk the grounds. She liked to read in the library. She liked to take baths.

It was a fully melancholy existence.

**OOO**

"Are you going to go to Constanta for the winter?" Herbert was lying back on the chaise, tossing some old paper weight he must've found somewhere. "It's been ages since we've gone there."

" _We_ would not go anywhere if I do go." Emilian Von Krolock dipped his pen into the ink and continued the letter he was writing. "You would need to stay behind. Attend to business."

His son scoffed, "Business is boring." There was something in his voice though to lead Emilian to think his son was not so bored by the prospect. Herbert always enjoyed power, always insisting his father did not trust him with enough of it. And Herbert would be perfectly fine to attend to the castle for the winter months. Business was always slower then and there shouldn't be a problem. Though the villagers had been growing uneasy. That would be easily healed.

Should he take Sarah away as he planned to take Sarah away, he had no doubt all of this unrest would simply fade away. He'd not much considered the consequences of taking her. So caught in lust and longing, he'd not considered the effects of her absence upon the village. She was not just some traveler or some vagabond no one would miss. She was the daughter of the innkeeper. The daughter of an innkeeper who now too lived under his roof. He needed to sort this.

Herbert tossed the weight, "Will you take the pet with you?"

His son had taken to the habit of referring to Sarah as such whenever he spoke of her. Herbert did not approve, though he had no grounds of which to be showing disapproval. Herbert would sight Sarah's age and inexperience, as though those were not things that plagued Krolock at every moment.

If he took her to the shore, everything would be better. Sarah was not happy here, that he now understood. Sarah was not happy in his home nor would she be. She feigned a contentment, but it was just an illusion. She was frightened and lonely and sad, all because he'd been greedy and cursed her. He needed to make amends and he certainly could not just set her free. No, that would be detrimental to all those who came across her. Not to mention it would be detrimental for him. It was selfish and evil, but he did not want her to go.

"Sarah likes the shore," he said. He finished the letter he was writing and set it aside to dry. "It would be good for her to go away."

"Are you going with her? Or are you sending her away?"

"I'm not sending her away."

Herbert raised a brow, "It might be wiser if you did."

"I'll hear no more on this," Krolock fanned at his letter. He folded it and sealed it with wax.

His son continued, "Do you two even speak to each other?"

His father did not answer.

"She's been here nearly two months and you two still behave around each other as though you are complete strangers."

"Herbert-"

He sat up, "It just seemed peculiar-that's all." Setting down the weight, he stood and outstretched his arms. "Alfred and I are going to go out for food. We'll be going a long ways. Don't expect us back soon."

Krolock said nothing as his son left the room, shutting the door behind him. As much as he disliked his son's flippant advice, he was keen in his observation. Krolock and Sarah never spoke. They hardly spoke anything to one another. For so many years, so many years, she'd just been something he observed. Something one observed and loved like a painting or a bird. How was one meant to speak to a painting or a bird? How was one to admire it when he'd been instructed for so many years not to touch the thing at all?

Now, every morning she lay next him and he'd fall asleep mad with lust. It did not go away, his wanting of her, and yet he felt disgusting and terrible any time he thought of lying with her again. She'd been so frightened of him. She'd been so traumatized. He would not hurt her again. He'd made a career in hurting others but he could not hurt her again. Krolock was not an innocent man, but he did not hold with rape. And certainly what he'd done had been akin to it and he would never do it again. He'd laid with her and she'd run away. She had been frightened. He should not have done it.

He'd gone to Elisabeth. It felt like a betrayal, but it felt far better than hurting Sarah. Elisabeth had not questioned it, though he knew there were questions in her mind. She dared not ask. She knew better than to ask.

But he could not do that anymore. He wanted Sarah, not Elisabeth. He did not want any woman but Sarah, but she was so unhappy. If he took her to Constanta, perhaps she could be happy again. Sarah could be happy and they'd make love and she'd not be so melancholy all the time. It was a selfish dream, but a dream all the same.

He knew not what to say to Sarah. He knew not how to fix this. He knew though that the sun would rise soon and he wanted to lie next to Sarah. He knew too that his lust was growing in his mind with all the thoughts of her.

Regretting himself, Krolock set to Elisabeth's room again. She let him in without question.

**OOO**

To care for someone was not to set about with other women, of that Sarah was certain.

She'd known men to do it. Her father had done it. Every other husband in the tavern had done it, but she'd not expected it of him. Not of her angel. Though he was not an angel and he was certainly not her husband, Sarah regretted it regardless. It had hurt like daggers to see him stalk away from that woman's bedroom. It had hurt like fire and ice all mixed in one.

Why had she even gone out from her room? It would've been better if she had not even known. Well, it would have been better if he'd not done it at all but… Sarah felt tears sting her face but she did not want them to fall. Damn him. Damn him straight to hell. Even if this was hell already, damn him even further than that.

So that was why he did not want Sarah. He'd had Sarah once, thought her bad at it, and went back to a woman who obviously knew how to do such things. Not that Sarah was an idiot about such matters, but it was not one she'd ever done before. He did not care to teach her. He did not care to make love to her. He wanted Elisabeth. Elisabeth who was trained in how to please and how to be sensual and how to be a woman. Not how to be a child. All Sarah was was a child. It was clear now that was all he thought of her.

The door to her bedroom opened, and he had the audacity to think she wanted his presence. How dare he? Not that he knew, she supposed. He knew she sometimes took walks at night, but he knew not she'd spotted him in his sin. Was it sin? Sarah didn't even know anymore, but she knew it hurt. She knew it was terrible.

"You're crying," he noted before he even reached her bed.

She didn't answer. He came closer.

"I know you've had a difficult time adjusting to life here," he spoke warmly and softly, the way he only did when they were alone. She hated him. Sarah felt the bed shift as he sat upon it. "So I thought you and I could go away for a while. To the shore. To Constanta."

Sarah blinked, not believing his words. He goes to the bedroom of another woman and now he wants to take Sarah to the shore? He was insane as well as cruel.

"I thought you might like that," he said to her calmly. He placed his hand on her hip and she could not stand him anymore. She could not stand any of this anymore. Any of this charade any of this madness. Sarah sat up like a bolt, pushing his hand away ferociously. His eyes stared at her, utterly perplexed, and she hated him.

"I saw you leaving Elisabeth's bedroom." The look in his eye changed to one of shock then guilt and Sarah liked it. She wanted him to feel terrible. Damn him for making her feel terrible. She continued, "You went to bed with her, didn't you?"

He said nothing and Sarah had her answer. He had. Of course he had. He was a man, wasn't he, and it had been two months since he'd been with Sarah. Why would he not lie with this other woman? A woman certainly far more sensual and knowing than she. A woman who didn't behave as much like a child. A woman who didn't run off crying and back to her mama.

"Sarah-"

She hissed, "I am not a child."

Her once angel just looked at her, confused by the outburst. She was confused as well. Yet that look of guilt and sadness grew again in his gaze. Damn him for doing it. Damn him for going to her. Elisabeth. Beautiful Elisabeth. Sensual and sexual Elisabeth who no doubt did not cry like Sarah and was not wild like Sarah and was not as perplexing as Sarah. Elisabeth was simple to handle. Elisabeth was not and ill-tempered little girl.

She began, "What am I to you?" He looked at her, not understanding her words. The blood seemed to be rushing to her ears though she knew not if her blood could rush anymore. "Why do you go to her bed? Do you not want me?"

Silence still.

"If you..." Her voice was breaking, damn her voice. "If you don't, please tell me. Tell me and stop driving me mad." The words blubbered at her lips and she clutched the fine sheets. " _You're driving me mad._ "

 _I want you to love me,_ she wanted to bellow but knew such a thing would only make her feel more a child. She felt him staring at her, not saying a word, and she felt insane. Those voices were building up in her head but Sarah had gotten good at ignoring them. None of them made much sense anyways.

He reached out and stroked her arm.

"My dear pet..." he began and Sarah jerked away.

"Pet, then," she muttered lowly. She wished she wore something more sensual and not this stupid nightdress that made her look like a baby. She felt like a baby. Or a pet. A pet meant to be admired and then locked away until it was wanted once again. Sarah did not want that fate. She despised that fate.

"Sarah-"

"Ack!" She hissed, tossing away the blankets.

"What do you want to be then, Sarah?" He responded with surprising roughness. "I know you anticipated some fanciful life but you must adapt to the fact that it is not." She looked at him, her insides feeling colder. "This is your existence now."

She squinted, "My existence where you ignore me and then go to the bed of other women?"

"Sarah-"

"If I was wrong, tell me!" She exclaimed fervently. "If I am wrong and I have been and you think me a daughter or some pet, tell me!"

He told her nothing.

"What am I to you?" Sarah questioned once again with a new fire raging in her. "You make love to me one time and then never again! Did I do something wrong? Do you not want me anymore? I want you so badly, Emilian! And you come lie here with my every night and you do not touch me! Why don't you touch me?"

He was not sure what he'd anticipated, but it was not that. The wild creature of a girl sat in front of him, her fingers clutching the sheets so tightly he thought she may rip them. Sarah's eyes were red and wild, her kinky curls sprung out all over her head. Wanted him? He'd not dreamed she'd did. She'd run from him on several occasions, so forgive him for not considering it. Wanted him?

He wanted her. Of course he wanted her. Lying near her every night and not touching her had been the most arduous test of his will. He'd bury his face in her curls to gain the scent of her and try not to touch her. He'd try not to think about sinking into her skin and tearing off her clothes and being inside of her and kissing her and caressing her and... He'd not have gone to Elisabeth if it weren't for this madness. Even Elisabeth had not cured it for now he sat with this girl wanting her just as wildly as he'd had before. Emilian could scream for the want of her. Young as she was, innocent as she was: he craved her.

"I thought you were frightened of me."

Sarah huffed, "No."

"You ran from me," he told her gruffly. She spoke to him like he had no cause in his accusation. "You ran from me over and over."

"I'm not running anymore," Sarah told him fiercely.

He breathed a long sigh, "I'm sorry I went to Elisabeth."

Sarah breathed too, "I'm sorry as well." It was unclear what she was sorry for: the blame was all his own. "I want to be here. I want to be with you. And if you do not want that, then tell me now. Tell me now, Emilian, and I'll stop my fanciful dreaming. I'll go to the shore with you. I'll adjust to my new life: you just have to tell me-"

He pressed his lips onto hers before she could even finish. She hesitated a moment before Sarah kissed him with equal vigor. She kissed him in a way that neither Elisabeth nor any other woman did. Sarah kissed him like she was frantic, like she was hungry. Her kisses were young and full of fire and unrelenting. Damn the sin of it. Damn it all. Damn how fucked every bit of it was. He'd bury his guilt in her.

"I'll have you every day, if you want that." He spoke roughly into her ear, a rage building in him. Damn her. Damn this young girl. Damn whatever witchcraft she'd placed upon him. Maybe she had learned spells in her time visiting gypsies. Maybe she had bewitched him. This infatuation was all consuming, it was all encompassing. It had not burned away since her turning. It had not grown any less fierce. Damn her. Fuck her. The little beast. The little temptress.

Emilian pushed her to the bed, holding her there as he lowered himself onto her. Damn her as she gasped and squeaked beneath his hold. Fuck her as she panted when he bit into her soft neck. Emilian ripped the damned nightdress from her body. There were others nightdresses. Hundreds of nightdresses. He undid his trousers and thrusted into her.

Sarah cried out but he didn't care for damn her for driving him wild. Damn her for all of this. Her little fingers were raking into his back and eventually she tore the shirt from his form. Emilian leaned down, touching his lips to hers as he slid in and out of her warm opening. Sarah gasped in time, her eyes glassy but he pressed his lips into her neck and he heard her sigh in relief. She smelt so intoxicating. How could she still smell so inviting to him?

In a move entirely unexpected, Sarah moved swiftly so that she was on top of him. The nightdress hung around her shoulder, a torn robe framing her body. Her lips were parted as she rocked her lithe body on top of his own. He reached up, touching her hair then wrapping it in his fist and pulling her close to him. She cried out again, light sweat lining her body. He pressed his lips into her neck again, bringing them to her breasts, her collar bone. Damn the girl. He pushed her back down to the bed again and thrust into her until he climaxed. She'd been close, he could tell, but in his greed he'd not cared. A wave of strange confusion came over her face so he removed himself from her and kissed down her frame til he was between her legs. Sarah grasped at him, her fingers wrapped in his hair until she reached her own release and he grasped her in his arms again, kissing all parts of her skin.

"I love you," she said softly. He was about to respond when she continued, "Don't tell me that I do not."

Dear thing... He kissed her neck, her ear, he drew her closer to him and they made love again. Sweetly this time, unlike the previous. His patience paid off and they climaxed as one and she kissed him and again said that she loved him. She knew not what she was saying, of course, but he so relished hearing her say it.

"Please don't go back to her." Sarah's voice spoke in a way to make him feel like the most despicable being.

He promised, "Never." He took Sarah's hand in his and kissed her fingers. "Never."

Eventually, she drifted to sleep and he stayed there lying next to her. For whatever odd guilt he'd felt before, it was gone. This feeling was far sweeter.


End file.
